#nick leister smut

[blainesebastian]

yes is a world

word count: 8,043 ship: Nick Leister x reader rating: NC-17 (for some smut, suggestive sexual language and expletives) summary: Nick rarely finds himself saying no to you, but there is one instance in which he does. notes: title is from 'love is a place' by e.e. cummings. gifs are from this gifpack! i also have a nick leister x reader masterlist here! notes 2: mentions of domestic abuse between reader's parents

Everything about Nick Leister screams yes, you noticed that the moment you met him. 

It’s in the firm lines of his body, broad shoulders, toned waist. The way he wears rings on his hands, his hands in general. It’s how he holds himself, it’s in his well-placed smiles and the curved syllables of his accent. This is someone who knows how to get exactly what he wants, when he wants it. When you first met him, you remember thinking that this was someone who was rarely told no. At first, you thought he was a spoiled brat, silver-spoon engraved with the word yes tipped into his mouth since birth. 

You couldn’t have been more wrong about that, about him, but it takes barriers coming down and masks removed to see that. 

It takes a long time to wriggle through the cracks, for Nick to trust you. A friendship between shared circles sprouts into something else, mutual attraction, an easiness that was somehow not there before. Or perhaps it’s always been there, just transformed into something else. Nick has always been someone who’s touchy; you’ve teased him that it’s his love language—hands brushing fingers, your lower back, dragging across your shoulders, playing with your hair, or rubbing up and down your spine. But him talking in a way that mattered? Sharing things? It was always one-sided. 

You’ve shared and gave and pried yourself open, and Nick’s always listened, been there for you, supported and protected you. But there was never a moment in which he cracked his ribs open either, shared vulnerabilities, until—

Seated on a small swatch of roof outside your bedroom window, you tug a blanket further around your shoulders. You and Nick are just hanging out, watching the dark clouds move across the midnight sky, attempting to count stars. It’s been a long fucking week of parties and obligations and…sometimes that’s fun? Other times it’s exhausting. 

He’s seated close enough that you can feel the heat of his body alongside your own, smell his cologne and something purely him. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye and are kinda dumbfounded, all over again, by how beautiful he is. 

“You know what’s weird?” You ask. 

“That you insist on putting peanut butter on Oreos?” He volleys back, a twinge to his lips as you scoff. 

“I regret sharing that culinary masterpiece with you,” You don’t, “But no. I fucking hate my birthday.” 

Nick doesn’t say anything, but knows your birthday is at the end of the month. 

You tip your head back, eyes following a few stars that get stuck under moving clouds, “I know it’s bizarre. But I just—I feel like every year I’m supposed to be different, or something? One year older and I end up just feeling exactly the same.” 

You’re not sure if it makes sense or if it’s just some sort of deep-seated insecurity that’s been passed on from your parents to you. They’re not divorced, but they should be. They’re not fucking happy. And yet every year passes and things stay the same. You think most kids would be thrilled that their parents were sticking it out together, not cutting up a marriage. Except they’re not trying to work together or figure out how to fix things. 

They’re just making it worse. 

Nick’s hand brushes over your back in silent comfort and when he turns his head, he brushes his lips into your hair. 

You shake your head, trying to clear the sourness from sticking to the bottom of your ribs, attempting to change the subject. “Anyways,” You mutter, straightening your shoulders, “How’s Maddie?” He went to visit her this past weekend and while he didn’t say much about it, you’re hoping he had a good time. You know how much she means to him. 

When Nick stills beside you, you steal a glance at him and can see that he’s upset. There’s a muscle working in his jaw, brown eyes clouded over and…

“You don’t have to tell me.” You assure him, because obviously whatever happened is bad enough to cause this visceral reaction. 

You don’t expect him to say anything, his body is so tightly wound up in what feels like the word ‘no’, and yet—

Nick draws in a slow breath into his lungs, swallowing before— “I can’t see Maddie for her birthday.” 

Fuck. That’s next week. Your eyebrows draw together in soft confusion, trying to figure out how this happened. Nick’s been to a few parties, sure, just like anyone else in their friend group has…but he’s been really good, meticulous, about not involving himself in anything that could get him into trouble. He hasn’t stepped foot in a bare-knuckle boxing match or a racing event in a long while. Not even just to watch. 

You shift just a little to face him, “I don’t understand, what did your mom say?” 

Nick holds your gaze but he doesn’t reply, just licks his lips. Your eyes search his until they land on a fading bruise on his cheekbone and oh…oh fuck. 

“It’s my fault.” 

“It is not.” Nick counters, making you scoff out a soft sound. 

“You wouldn’t have that bruise if it wasn’t for me.” 

When some guy grabbed your ass at a party, Nick shoved him so hard he tumbled into a table. Before you could get in the middle, assure Nick that you were fine and that maybe it was best to leave, the guy got up and suckerpunched with a sloppy fist at Nick’s face.

“My actions are my own.” He replies, his hand slipping into your own and squeezing your fingers. 

“Which you wouldn't have done if it weren’t for me.” 

“And I’d do it again.” Nick counters, finality in his tone. 

You can’t help but sigh, frustrated for him. Knowing Nick, when his mother assumed he was doing something troublesome thanks to the bruise on his face, he never tried to correct her, refusing to drag you into it. 

Well. You can drag yourself into it. “I’m gonna talk to your mom, tell her what actually happened.” You tell him, “And before you start—‘my actions are my own’.” You parrot his words back to him, looking pleased as hell at the look on his face. 

Surprise, maybe, amusement definitely. His lips twitch into an almost smile at your determination. He doesn’t tell you no or try to talk you out of it. But he does lean over and kiss your cheekbone. 

—

That’s the first time that Nick finds himself unable to say no to you. And it’s not the last. 

—

Nick stares long and hard at the ball of wriggling fur in the center of his comforter, one of his hands coming up to rub the lower half of his face. 

“It’s a cat,” You smile, opening your hands wide and motioning to the orange, striped little thing with honeysuckle colored eyes that’s playing with a loose string on a blanket, “Or well…a kitten, I guess, is more specific.” 

His eyes flit up to yours before looking back down, “I know what it is, why is it on my bed?” 

“Because the floor is cold?” 

“Y/N.” He sighs out, slightly exasperated, which causes your lips to pout. 

“Oh come on,” You sit down on the edge of his bed, “I found him outside in the garbage. Someone threw him away.” And you’re trying not to sound hysterical here—the thought that someone could just toss a baby kitten, or any animal for that matter, into the trash if they didn’t want it—you shake your head. 

No need to cry. The kitten is going to be just fine. You smile a little as it rolls on its back, catching his own tail. 

“And you brought him here?” 

Your eyes flicker up to your boyfriend. You haven’t been together for very long but if Nick knows anything about you, it’s your soft spot for animals. This should not be a surprise to him. 

“I can’t keep him at my house—my parents would flip. And they’re already miserable, they don’t need the help.” 

“I don’t like cats.” Nick replies, the tone of his voice leaving little room for nonsense. 

You tilt your head at him, crossing your arms over your chest. Since when? “You’ve never told me that.” 

The orange kitten gets up and wobbles on its four legs to wander towards Nick…except he’s moving too fast and nearly does a nose-dive off the bed. Nick’s reflexes are fast, catching the fluffy ball in his hands and lifting him up and holding him against his chest. The kitten squirms but then starts to bat at the strings of his hoodie. Your lips curl up in soft amusement and Nick opens his mouth to say something but doesn’t. 

Instead, he sneezes, right into his shoulder, barely turning his head in time. He blinks, like it caught him by surprise but then the next one doesn’t. He hands you the kitten, moving towards his bathroom, and your mouth forms a soft ‘O’ as you get up and follow him. 

Leaning against the doorframe as he blows his nose, you raise your eyebrows, “You’re allergic?” You had no idea. A soft, entertained noise leaves your lips as the kitten reaches for a strand of your hair and Nick sniffles. 

You give him an innocent wince as he takes a step towards you, gazing at the kitten like it’s personally offended him somehow. Well, it was a nice try. “I’ll take him to Jenna’s, maybe she can keep him.” 

You look down at the kitten and give him a soft smile, scratching underneath his chin. Nick tips his head back, sighing audibly, before gently taking the kitten back into his hands. He moves to sit down on his bed, leaning against the headboard as he watches the orange little thing play with the silver bracelet around his wrist. 

“We’re naming him Garfield.” 

You grin—we. You move to sit down next to his legs. The name Garfield is perfect. 

—

Nick has to start taking daily allergy pills but he never complains. He starts feeding Garfield special treats right from his hands, sitting on the floor with him. And you kiss him a little harder and longer for that. 

—

You rarely allow yourself to get drunk when you’re out at the club with Nick and your circle of friends. It’s not that you look down on it, or anything, it’s just that you know your hangovers are the fucking worst. There’s no in-between to how it treats you the next day (sometimes in the middle of the night). You’re either completely fine, or god awful sick—nauseous, headaches, body aches and promises that you will never allow yourself to get so shit-faced again. Until you inevitably do. 

Tonight is one of those nights. You’ve pushed past your limits. You’re not incredibly sloshed, or anything; you’ve ironically always been a rather respectable drunk. Just enough of your wits about you to brush your teeth and text your mom that you’re okay before passing out. But the room is definitely spinning and your heart is beating in tandem with the music pulsing through the speakers onto the dance floor. 

Nick isn’t as far gone as you, just toeing the line of buzzed and seeing everything rose-colored, a state in which you probably should have kept yourself at but it was someone’s birthday at the bar. Everyone close by got a shot. Then Lion ordered another round. And then another. That on top of the two mixed drinks you already had. 

You’re off the dance floor, waiting at the bar, leaning against the edge of it. Nick has created a cage around you with his arms, body pressed against your back. You bop your head to the beat, chewing on a straw, waiting for the bartender to free up. 

“We should get another shot,” Jenna declares, finding a stool to slide onto. 

Your eyes widen as you turn to look at her because suddenly that sounds like a great idea, “Yes.” You wave your arm a little, attempting to grab the attention of the bartender, “Sir!” 

Nick reaches up for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and tucking it down against your body. You rotate to face him. 

“How am I supposed to get the bartender’s attention if I don’t have a hand to wave?” 

He presses a kiss to the bridge of your nose, making you melt a little. “How bout some water instead?” 

You pout, jutting out your lower lip. You can’t hear Nick laugh but you can feel it, that tell-tale rumble in his chest. “No, no, just one more—one more.” You hold up the finger of the number in case he’s confused. 

He shakes his head but he’s smiling, his hand now curling around that one too. “One more,” He relents, “Then water.” 

Grinning, triumphant, you turn to Jenna and call out one more, making her cheer. You lean over Nick’s arm and wrap yours around your friend’s shoulders, a set of giggles capturing you both as Lion orders the shots. Your boyfriend doesn’t let go of you, helping you remain balanced and upright as you tip that final shot back into your mouth. 

—

Drinking water until you leave the club, while needed, unfortunately does not restore your equilibrium. You don’t remember going home with Nick, or him helping you out of your shoes and dress, or taking your makeup off, or helping you crawl into bed. All you remember is the sour taste of shots in the back of your throat as a sharp pain in your stomach wakes you out of a dead sleep. 

Glancing over at Nick, he’s asleep on his stomach, his one arm stretched out near his head along the pillows. He’s beautiful when he sleeps, though you suppose that shouldn’t be surprising. His eyelashes rest gently against his cheek, his back rising and falling as he breathes—and a twinge of amusement battles out your nausea as you see Garfield tucked into Nick’s neck, purring. You brush your fingers through his curls and shift to carefully pull the covers back, moving as quickly as you can to the bathroom. 

Your knees barely hit the floor before you’re vomiting into the toilet. It’s all liquid, which unfortunately does not make you feel any better as your stomach lurches its contents forward. Until there’s nothing left but dry heaves. 

You feel him before you hear him, the measured steps of Nick’s feet against the marbled floor. He then crouches down next to you in a pair of sweatpants, no shirt. The heat of his body feels nice alongside your own given the way you’re shaking in a cold sweat. He carefully gathers your hair up, holding it with one hand as the other rubs down your back. 

You cough, trying to get yourself to stop gagging long enough to breathe deeply in through your nose. Your eyes slip shut, focusing on Nick’s calm breathing, his hands massaging your spine. When you seem to be done, and god—you really hope you are, you close the toilet lid and Nick reaches to flush the toilet. 

“Never let me insist on one more shot.” 

Nick smirks a little, as if you could be told what to do—you know he’d never do that anyways, but he leans forward and helps you up off the floor. He sets you on the closed toilet seat, Garfield trotting into the bathroom like he owns the place. He’s getting a little bigger, chasing Nick’s shadow on the floor as your boyfriend wets a washcloth in the sink and brings it back over. He crouches in front of you, gently tipping your chin up. 

“On second thought, never let me drink ever again.” You mumble. 

He wipes the sweat off your cheeks, forehead and the sides of your neck. “Yes ma’am.” He teases, focused on the task at hand. Garfield attempts to crawl up Nick’s leg by using his sweatpants as leverage. That kitten is obsessed with him…though, you suppose you can relate. 

When he’s done, he tosses the washcloth towards the hamper, picking Garfield up and standing to his full height. “You gonna get sick again?” 

You try to suss out how you feel. Definitely not as terrible as before when you first woke up but…still kinda queasy. No reason for him to stick around though when he could go back to sleep. 

“I dunno, you mise well leave me here to die.” 

Nick smiles, rolling his eyes before returning to the bedroom. You sigh softly, standing from the toilet to at least wash the taste from your mouth with some mouthwash. You then settle on the floor in front of the glass shower, using the door to prop your back up. Your eyes slip closed for a moment, only opening again when you hear Nick come back into the bathroom. 

You expected him to crawl back into bed but instead he…he places Garfield into your hands and sets the one pillow down that was under his arm, then encourages you to sit up while he places the other behind you. He sits down, his thigh pressed into yours, spreading out the comforter over both your legs. 

You should not be getting so emotional about this man creating a makeshift bed in the bathroom. You can’t find the words to explain, either, behind what feels like cotton in your throat. So you lean your head on his shoulder instead as Garfield curls up on your lap. 

—

Your entire body is trembling as you lay back on your sheets, tired, sated, pleasure swirling as it licks at your nerve endings. Nick’s on top of you, inside of you, no one moving as you both come down from your high. Your throat is dry as you swallow, but fuck, you wouldn’t move for anything. He tips his chin down, nipping at your jawline, leaning up just a little to put weight on his arms so he doesn’t crush you. 

“Don’t—” You mumble, hooking a leg around his own, “Don’t move.” 

He smirks softly, his hand moving to tangle itself in your hair, “Weren’t two orgasms enough?” He asks, cheeky little shit. 

“You tell me,” You whisper against his mouth, rolling your hips up to meet his. Your body clenches around his cock and you can feel him stir with interest again, pressing against that deep spot inside you that makes your toes curl. 

Just one more. Nick leans down and nips at your lower lip with his teeth, shifting so he can use momentum to thrust forward. He swallows your moan, turning the kiss into something deeper. 

One more—and who’s Nick to deny you of that?

—

You’ve known Nick a long time, friends far before you were together. Because of that, you know that you can read one another fairly well. Even though you tend to wear your emotions right on your face, heart on your sleeve, he’s always been rather attuned to you. Nick, however, takes a bit longer to figure out. Anyone who doesn’t know him well would miss small signs when something is wrong. He keeps people at a distance on purpose, never letting anyone close enough to get a good look at him, to realize he’s wearing a mask. 

But you know. 

It takes a little while to spot it with a trained eye, but there’s a tightness to his shoulders, his smile a little too forced, his body coiled tight with tension. When you touch him underneath his jacket, you can feel it in the muscles of his back, the way he doesn’t relax into you like he usually does. The way he avoids your gaze. 

He’s upset about something. 

You’re almost certain that’s why he picks a fight with Lion in the middle of this party that you’re at. He’s been short and a little rude all night, but sometimes, admittedly, that’s just how Nick is. He’s a hothead, he sometimes says things without considering consequences. But tonight feels different, you watch him carefully, like he’s a powder keg ready to explode. 

You and Jenna both get in the middle of an impending fist fight and you drag Nick outside until he’s forced to get into his car and take you home with him. You’re hoping that the tension will dissipate by the time you walk into his bedroom, but unfortunately it gets worse. You wrap your arms around yourself, watching as he begins to undress, removing his leather jacket. 

“You gonna tell me what that was all about?” 

“Think it was quite obvious, I'm tired of Lion dragging me into his messes.” His accent is slightly thicker than usual because he's agitated, running both hands through his curls, “And you don't need to defend him, he's got a girlfriend for that.” 

Your eyebrows lift, “I'm on your side.” You say it a bit slowly, pointedly, because clearly whatever he's wound up about is not Lion. 

He scoffs, tugging his shirt over his head to toss in the hamper near his bathroom, “Right. That why you were hanging on him all night? That’s you being ‘on my side’?” 

You draw in a careful breath, looking away from him. Not because you feel like you’re embarrassed, in the wrong, or because you have something to hide. But because Nick is trying to hurt you, he’s trying to push you away. 

And you’re not going to let him. 

“Now all of a sudden you’re upset when we all dance with eachother?” You ask, trying to point out the faults in his so-called argument. 

A tight-knit circle of you and Lion, Nick and Jenna drinking on the makeshift dance floor. Consistently spinning and interchanging couples and…you didn’t think anything of it. It’s something the four of you have always done. Tonight was no different. You didn’t touch Lion in a way that could be construed as anything other than friends, and he was a perfect gentleman with his hands. He’s in love with Jenna. 

You refuse to call Nick ridiculous or begin some sort of name-calling back and forth because that’ll just make things worse. You are not the one that Nick’s upset with. 

You center yourself, squeezing around your midsection, “I know you’re frustrated that Lion pulls you into things without asking, but—”

“He’s not the only one who does that.” Nick interrupts, his words wrapped in barbed wire. 

You lift your chin, “You’re saying I do that too?” 

“Well I couldn’t explain a bruised face to my mother and now I own a cat I never wanted.” 

Fucking ouch. You can tell the exact moment when his words land and the gentle regret in his eyes, his breathing a little heavy. He suddenly glances away and you try to ignore the tingling at the bridge of your nose. You’re not going to cry in front of him, you know he’s yanking on insecurities of ‘what if’s, trying to grasp at anything that’s not the real problem. 

You smooth your hands over nonexistent wrinkles in your shirt, “Alright, when you’re ready to talk to me about what’s really bothering you, I’ll be in the living room.” 

You only let tears slip down your cheeks when you’re far away from his bedroom. 

—

You curl up on the couch downstairs, taking your jeans off and pulling on one of Nick’s hoodies that you find on the back of the chair in the kitchen. Angry at him or not, the man still has comfortable clothes that are hard to resist. 

Frustration sits heavily in your lungs, making your chest hurt. You know that sharing things that hurt isn’t always the easiest of things. You’ve been there. It’s difficult to trust people, especially when they have a habit of letting you down. You know have struggled with that before—not just with one another, but in your own lives with your family. You feel like you’ve tried to promise yourself that it’d be different with Nick, that despite patterns of predictability, that you’d both work on letting the other in. 

Or was that just something you made up for yourself that night on the roof? 

You hope your boyfriend will take those steps forward even when it’s hard, that yes, he’ll come talk to you about what’s really going on. 

But he doesn’t show. 

—

At some point you must fall asleep, because the next thing you know, you’re rolling over onto your back and trying to adjust your eyes to…Nick. Nick seated by your hip, his one arm resting on the other side of you. You can tell that he’s showered, a warm hue to his skin and his hair slightly damp, dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt. There’s an inward curl to his shoulders though that makes him appear smaller than usual. 

“What time is it?” You croak out, clearing your throat. You sit up a little, leaning against the arm of the couch. 

“Just after two,” He says softly and it’s quiet for a moment as you sit with one another. 

You watch him carefully, the way he holds himself. You can see him clamp down on an emotion so he can speak, though his voice is slightly strained when he says, 

“Fuck, I’m sorry—about what I said upstairs. I—”

You shake your head, your hand reaching for his. You squeeze, running your thumb back and forth over his knuckles, “I know.” It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that he’s down here, trying to talk to you. 

“Nick,” You say gently after a moment, “What’s wrong?” 

Nick swallows, letting out a long breath as his eyes fill with unshed tears. It guts you, punches you right in the chest, seeing him like this, struggling with being able to talk about his emotions. He’s got them so tightly under lock-and-key, so buried underneath himself that he’s not sure how to let them out easily, which is how it ends up like this. A dam breaking open. 

“It’s—this is the day my mum left when I was younger, and I don’t know—I guess I think each year will get better, feel different. It never does.” He sniffles, quickly rubbing his cheek against his shoulder, “And I know she’s worked hard on herself, why she had to leave—and yet I’m still so angry with her. And that feels awful too.” 

Your chest splits wide open, hurting that he’s hurting. You sit up, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, encouraging him to lean into you. He’s tense for a long few moments before he melts, lets go, his arms sliding along your back and holding onto you tightly, like a lifeline. You can feel his face press into your shoulder, tears wetting your skin, dragging a ragged breath in as you stroke his back while your other hand threads into his curls. 

You hold him until he’s ready to pull away. 

—

A few days pass and you don’t bring up what Nick said to you about his mother. There’s no need to break it down further—what he was feeling, what he probably still is feeling, is valid. You’re not sure that one conversation is going to fix everything, but you hope he knows that someone is there for him, someone to listen. Someone to hold his hand next year when those ugly feelings visit his doorstep once again. 

Nick apologizes to Lion, who tells him it’s not a big deal, that it’s already forgotten. You’re just glad things return to as normal as they can around here. 

You dive under the water in Nick’s pool, kicking underneath until your lungs burn a little for oxygen. When you make your way to the surface, Nick is coming out from around the hedges in a red swim trunks and a white t-shirt. 

“Got something for you.” He says, motioning for you to get out of the pool. 

“Is it ice cream?” You call out, floating on your back towards the ledge to exit, “Cause I love ice cream.” 

“Easy to please, I’ll remember that for next time.” He teases, setting some towels down on a glass table. 

You pull yourself from the water, adjusting your swim bottoms as you round the edge of the pool to stand in front of him. He looks…he looks better. There’s a lightness that’s returned to his eyes, the smirk more genuine in the corners of his mouth. His shoulders are relaxed too and you swallow the urge to kiss him. 

You purse your lips, “I’m still not convinced it’s not ice cream—”

And then, from a small, blue, velvet bag, Nick pulls out a silver chain that has a tiny key on the end of it. It’s dainty, beautiful, the key top shaped like a heart and no bigger than your thumb nail. Your mouth falls open and then a wide smile spreads across your face as you reach out and take it from him. 

“Nick,” You whisper.

He hums and then reaches into his shirt, pulling out a similar chain. But instead of a key on his, he has a silver lock relatively the same size. It’s clear—they go together, yours unlocking his, and the weight of that sits heavy and low in your chest. 

He chews on the inside of his cheek, watching you, “Do you like it?” 

“I love it,” You reply instantly, turning and handing it back to him, “Can you put it on me?” 

Nick opens the clasp and moves his arms around you, resting it against your chest as you move your hair aside for him. When he’s done, he puts his hands on your shoulders, squeezing, palms traveling down your arms. When you turn back around, he’s smiling, gaze wandering from the key on your sternum and then back up to your eyes. 

Then, in one giant swoop, he lifts you into his arms to haul over his shoulder, a squeal leaving your lips as he jumps into the pool. 

—

Nick’s a great cook, which you suppose shouldn’t be surprising, because he’s good with his hands. It’s like a state of fluidity you can’t begin to understand, the way he moves in a kitchen. It’s like he has a sixth sense of when to add seasonings, when to fix a temperature for something he’s making, when a recipe calls for one thing but he substitutes another. He’s also mesmerizing to watch when he prepares things—cutting strips of chicken, rolling noodles in sauce, mincing garlic and herbs. 

Probably something that shouldn’t be attractive but it is. 

On the flip side, you’re not the most organized in the kitchen. You know how to make the basics, provide for yourself if you’re not ordering UberEats. Your one aunt didn’t know how to boil pasta until she was seventeen so…safe to say you’re not that bad. However, baking is another story. Your grandparents owned a little bakery before it went up for sale when they passed away. One of your regrets is that you were never old enough to take it over, that your parents didn’t save it. 

Regardless, baking is in your blood and you want to be good at it. 

Though…if Nick’s face is any indication as he bites into a cookie you’ve made, maybe you should quit while you’re ahead. Or behind, in this case. You chew on your lower lip, leaning against the counter as he chews…thoughtfully. 

“Not good? Are they awful?” 

“Uh,” He clears his throat, “I don’t know if I’d say that.” 

You groan, tipping your head into your hands, “They are, they’re terrible.” You lift your gaze to his, a soft pout on your lips, “I don’t understand, I followed every step of the recipe.” 

Nick smiles a little, licking his lips, setting the cookie down on the plate. It makes a conk noise, which indicates they’re far too hard. And you like crispy cookies! Like a snickerdoodle that’s soft and gooey on the inside but has a good crust on the outside. But this…isn’t that. 

You pick one up and bite into it. It’s supposed to be red velvet chocolate chip but it kinda tastes…bland. Except at the end where there’s a salty, burnt chocolate flavor. “Oh no.” 

“Really hope food poisoning isn’t involved.” 

“Hey,” You kick his shin under the table even though you’re laughing, “Shut up.” Sighing dramatically, you place the cookie back on the plate, “I guess it’s good I didn’t try out one of my grandparent’s recipes, would have ruined their memory along with the cookies.” 

He shakes his head, his hand reaching for yours on the table. He smiles as he brushes his thumb along your knuckles, your fingers dragging across the silver ring he’s wearing, “You can always try again. I can help you next time.” 

“I wanted to do it by myself,” You grumble—you already know they’re going to turn out good if Nick helps. But that’s not the point. Or…maybe it is. Having edible cookies. 

He stands from the counter, shifting around the island to plant a kiss to your cheek. He then dips his chin, peppering kisses along your face in rapid succession until you laugh, your hand falling to his chest to playfully push him away. 

“I’ll just throw them out, then we can watch a movie or something.” You move to grab the plate, but Nick gets there first, picking it up to carry it into the living room. He selects one of the less sad-looking ones on the outskirts. A small smile blooms over your cheeks as he decides that, yes, he’ll eat another one, despite how awful they are. 

—

Nick rarely finds himself saying no to you, but there is one instance in which he does.

—

Admittedly, this is not how you usually handle situations like this.  You know that when you’re on the outside looking in, it digs under your skin when people you care about try to shove you away from trying to help. When they put up walls around themselves, refusing to let anyone close to help. You’ve always been a problem solver, driven by solutions, or at the very least being available to listen, because sometimes having someone to vent to is more than enough. 

You never want someone to close themselves up to the point in which they push anyone they care about away, building a box inside to shove emotions into because it’s easier not to feel anything at all. 

So maybe that’s why this is so ironic—because now when you’re faced with something you’re not sure how to handle, you cut everyone off like a gangrenous limb. 

You’ve expressed frustrations before about your parents, about how despite the fact that they should be divorced, they’re sticking together for god knows what reason. It’s made their once tolerable relationship ugly, it’s turned them into people who hate one another. And that toxic relationship finally bubbles up one night—

Your dad hits your mom. 

And you’re not talking about a gentle tap, it’s a backhanded strike that knocks her into the table. There’s instant regrets, there’s begging, there’s crying, and all the while you just kinda stand there, staring at the spot where your mom was. It shuts a door inside you, it pushes everything you’ve ever cared about right into your ribs. 

It makes you never want to trust another person again, it makes you never want to be in a relationship because things can sour far too fast. Two people who loved one another, who had a child together, turned into something ugly. You’re not saying you’re destined for that same fate, but it doesn’t inspire comforting feelings about being with someone either. 

This might not be a small town, but drama spreads like a virus in private social circles, and suddenly everyone knows about what happened between your parents. Your mother’s doctor visit, your father at a bar—it’s all too much for you to deal with, that downward spiral making you feel like you’re stuck even though what’s happened doesn’t directly impact you. 

Especially since both of your parents are acting like it never fucking happened. They never mention divorce. It makes you irrationally angry, almost to the point where you want to drive your fist through your bedroom mirror. 

Jenna blows up your phone with calls and texts and you manage to send a few that respond to her questions. You have no idea how to answer, are you alright? Or is there anything I can do? 

You don’t respond to Nick at all. 

—

In the back of your mind, you know you should have seen this coming. Nick wasn’t just going to take to being ignored. You can picture the concern swimming in his brown eyes, the frown tugging his handsome mouth down, the surge of protectiveness to just fix whatever’s wrong. You hate worrying him, but you just…can’t find it within yourself to make a different choice. It’s like you’re sitting in the rafters watching this all play out, a spectator in your own life. 

You’re folding laundry when Nick shows up, letting himself into your room. He’s wearing a large gray hoodie that makes your chest ache with how comfortable it looks, tugging the hood off his head when the door closes behind him. He lets out a soft sigh, reaching into the large pocket in the front and—

A ball of orange, fuzzy fur mewls. 

You pause as he puts Garfield down on your bed, the kitten instantly rushing to greet you, rolling into piles of laundry you’ve created to put in your closet. Your eyebrows draw together in soft confusion, gaze lifting to your boyfriend, 

“Not keeping him anymore?” You ask, voice a little rough from lack of use. 

Nick’s eyebrows draw together—you suppose you wouldn’t be surprised if he was breaking up with you, given the radio silence you’ve created. “No. I figured you might miss him. And since you won’t text or call me back, I assumed you wouldn’t be coming over any time soon either.” 

You swallow over a foreign emotion in your throat (you know exactly what it is) and look down at Garfield. Your heart clenches—you did miss him. The kitten isn’t the only thing you miss. Your eyes flit up to Nick again, who’s hovering near the door, eyes assessing. He’s trying to get a read on you, trying to figure out what he can do to help. You’re sorry that he’s wasted his time. 

Setting down a shirt, you pick up Garfield and bury your nose in his fur for a moment. He kinda smells like Nick’s sheets, like the comfort and warmth of his bedroom. Your eyes close. 

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong?” 

You lower Garfield a little, scratching under his chin, “I’m sure you’ve heard by now.” 

“That’s not what I meant.” 

Your eyes flash as you lift your chin, a scoff tumbling out, “What, is that not enough? What else should be wrong, Nick?” 

��Y/N,” He starts and you shake your head, putting your hand up as you gently drop the orange kitten to your bed. His voice is too soft, too gentle, it hurts to hear. 

“No, I’m curious—please elaborate. Is my dad hitting my mom not a wrong enough reason to not respond to your calls or texts?” Your voice is heightened, slightly pinched and you hate how it sounds borderline hysterical, but what the fuck? When he showed up, you didn’t expect that he’d be calling you out on your emotions. You figured he might listen, try to help, even though you weren’t interested in talking. 

But this? 

“Get out.” You state, voice calmer than before. 

You stare a hole right through him and you can tell the moment that Nick strengthens his resolve, digs his heels in, the asshole actually has the audacity to cross his arms over his chest. 

“No.” 

You blink at him, your breath coming out short, nearly a gasp as your heart begins to hammer in your ears. No? No? Nick has been the type of person to be completely supportive to the point where he nearly bends to your every whim, your every request. He says yes like he was made for it—it’s in every smile he gives you, every lingering touch, every kiss of a promise. 

You do not expect him to say no. 

“Nick, I’m not—” You shake your head, rounding the bed to stand in front of him, not close enough to touch. Not yet. “I’m being serious.” 

“So am I.” 

That just serves to piss you the fuck off, “Get out,” You snap, no longer worried about being cordial, about sounding a certain way. Your voice shakes and you can feel the bridge of your nose tingle, your eyes stinging, “Just leave me alone.” 

Again, Nick looks at you with an utter calm that makes you want to slap him across the face. He breathes in through his nose and then lets it go. He shakes his head, 

“No.” He repeats. 

You swallow what feels like glass in your throat. Why is he doing this? “I don’t want you here.” 

“I don’t care,” He volleys back, determination strengthening his entire stance. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

That statement hits you square in the chest, a roar that sounds like the ocean crashing in your ears. I’m not going anywhere—it repeats a few times, a cycle bouncing off your ribs, capable of ripping you wide open. Your jaw sets in resolve and you’re not even realizing that you’re moving until you take two steps forward and put your hands on his chest, shoving him towards the door. 

Nick’s mouth falls open, more surprised than anything else, as you throw him off balance. He quickly rights himself, that boxing training coming into handy as he anticipates your next push. 

“Stop,” He says softly, nowhere near as pissed as you want him to be. How you feel. 

You don’t listen, hitting his chest again, throwing your body into it to try and force him through the doorway. Out. Away. “Get out.” Your hands curl into fists, throwing them against him, your cheeks burning with effort. Your vision blurs, pent up tears beginning to spill down your face. “I–just leave.” 

Nick shakes his head again, his hands moving to gently clasp your wrists. His body is immovable despite how much power you’re trying to put into each movement. He squeezes you but not in a way that’s painful, just trying to keep you still. You draw in a haggard breath, 

“Nick—”

His features scrunch at the pain in your voice and he attempts to wrap his arms around you to draw you close, even though you won’t let him, taking a step back,

“I know,” He whispers, cupping your cheek and thumbing away tears, “It’s okay, I’m not going anywhere.” 

A pinched whimper leaves your lips as you give in to what he’s saying, your body pitching forward, Nick firmly keeping you in place against his chest. The tears are relentless as they stream down your cheeks, plopping into his gray hoodie, all of your frustration, anger, hurt, emptying against him. He tries to support you the best way that he can, pressing his lips and nose to your temple, murmuring that he’s there, that you’re going to be okay, that he loves you. 

And for once? You’re glad he didn’t listen. You’re glad he said no. 

—

Seated in bed against the headboard, Garfield finds his way onto your stomach, making biscuits with his little hands. For something so tiny, he’s a loud purrer. You glance up as Nick comes back into your bedroom, a mug of hot tea in his hands that he places into yours before crawling in beside you. 

“Were they downstairs?” 

Nick adjusts a pillow near you, leaning back and angling his body a bit towards yours. He smiles a little at Garfield, reaching over to pet between his ears. 

“Your mom’s in the living room. I didn’t see your dad.” 

Probably out again to avoid the gravity of his mistakes. You feel so tired, exhaustion sitting in your chest like cinderblocks. Heavy in a way you’ve never felt before. You hold the mug of tea carefully, blowing at the steam that’s curling out of it. 

Sometimes your parent’s problems feel immovable, like you’re not sure how you’re supposed to get past it. You’re scared it’s going to get worse if it’s not addressed. You let out a slow breath out of your mouth—you suppose you can’t allow yourself to think like that, you’ll drive yourself crazy. 

Besides—at least you have people who care about you, who can help, even if it’s just to be here. You glance over at Nick, his gaze already on yours, mapping along your face. A gentle smile tugs the corners of his lips, his hand moving to rub your thigh gently. 

“Can I do anything?” He asks. 

Your fingers squeeze the hot ceramic. “You already have.” And lean over to kiss him. 

—

There’s this poem you like that reminds you of Nick—one of the lines says, yes is a world. And despite how often he says it? You realize you should be saying yes to more things too. Yes, you will have that extra scoop of ice cream. Yes, you’ll spend a lazy Sunday watching crime documentaries. Yes, it’s okay to feel frustrated that the trust you put in the adults around you has been mishandled. That they’ve hurt you in doing so. Yes, it’s okay to admit you need help. That you need someone to lean on. 

It’s a work in progress, but maybe if you start living more in that world of yes? Other people might too. Like your mom, who will hopefully discover one day that, yes, she deserves better. 

So when Nick asks you if you’d like to come with him to visit Maddie, you smile brightly and say yes. 

Despite everything you’ve heard, you haven’t met Maddie. You’ve briefly interacted with Nick’s mother a few times, but not the sister that is so near and dear to him. You know how important this is, can feel it fill up your chest like a hot-air balloon when pulling into the gravel driveway. There’s this unfounded worry that his sister will somehow not like you, even though there’s no reason to think that. You know Maddie knows who you are—Nick’s told her. 

You watch as Nick gets out of the car and crouches low to scoop his younger sister up into his arms, doing a small spin that makes her giggle and you smile. He’s so good with her, your heart hammering in your chest as he sets her down and ruffles her hair. He motions a little over to you, putting his hands on his knees so he’s eyelevel with her. 

“That’s Y/N.” 

She gasps in pure excitement, “Your girlfriend?” Nick laughs a little before nodding, standing to put his hands on her shoulders and turn her in your direction. “She’s so pretty.” 

He hums in agreement. “She is.” 

You smile, wandering towards the pair, “It’s really nice to meet you Maddie. I’ve heard a lot about you.” 

Instead of replying, she rushes forth and captures you in a hug, squeezing you tight enough to envy her big brother. You can’t help but laugh, hugging her back—you decide you like her. A lot. 

—

After a big dinner, two pieces of chocolate cake, and playing hide and seek (quite terribly, you might add) you and Maddie lay in a hammock under twinkle lights with a book in the backyard as Nick helps his mother put away dishes and clean up. He glances outside the kitchen window at you two, a small smile on his face. The fondness in his eyes is almost enough to take you out at the knees, butterflies skittering into your ribs. 

Maddie turns the page, reading outloud, “It was then the princess said that the prince was her home, even if they were miles and miles apart.” 

She pauses, fingers playing with the page. She tips her head back to look at you, her hair smelling like daisies and citrus. “Can home be a person?” 

You smile a little, your gaze finding Nick again, “Yes,” You nod, “I think it can.” 

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

My Fault London: Nick Leister headcannons

Note: All these headcannons are mature aka SPICY HEADCANNONS ✨Mentions of drinking! Afab reader! Step-Sister reader!

Nick Leister who… doesn’t really care that other people are around. He doesn’t mind being public with you, but it’s you who gets anxious. ‘What if someone sees us?’ ‘What if someone hears us?’ He doesn’t care. He does whatever he wants because he can. At social events, while everyone’s mingling about with their drinks and fake smiles, he’s face deep into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent and drilling himself into you like no tomorrow. Backed up against a wall legs wrapped around his hips. He’s drinking up every sound you make, certain on easing your worries about getting caught while hitting that spot that has you seeing stars. He knows people will question him, ask him where he’s been and what he was doing. He wants to answer you, but he smiles and says he just needed a breath of fresh air.

Nick Leister who… waits for your mother and hid father to leave for the weekend, going on a business trip and ignoring their ‘Be careful! Be nice to each other!’ And oh is he nice, so nice because he takes his time kissing you through the kitchen, caging you against the countertop with his arms and hips, heated kiss so deep you don’t notice his hands shaking as they rest on your waist, just under the hem of your shirt. He’s so nice, letting you run your fingers through his hair, and groaning when you pull just right to make his head spin, nails raking against his scalp and he lives for it.

Nick Leister who… catches you trying on his clothes, a large shirt covering your frame. He watches from the doorway, watches you spin around in his shirt, a tie of his loosely around your neck. He grins when he realizes he likes the sight of you in his clothes more than he’d realized. He especially likes taking them off you. ‘They’re not yours, it’s only right I help you take it off. Don’t you think?’ He’ll lift the shirt off you, leaving you in a tie as he takes his time with you, showing you why you don’t go snooping (though for what it’s worth, you definitely don’t regret it after having his face between your thighs) He’ll get on his knees, looking up at you after asking where you need him most.

Nick Leister who… does whatever you ask of him. It starts with little things at first. ‘Can you pick me up from..?’ Or an occasional, ‘Can you pick up some coffee for me?’ Simple favors. Something only a good ‘house-mate’ would do. But he loves when you ask for help on other things. Like when you tip-toe into his room late at night once your parents have gone off to bed, large sleep shirt draped over you as you shyly knock on his door. He’ll let you in, buying the fake excuse that you ‘had a bad dream’ and let you stay in his bed. And he’ll help you all the same when you ask him to get you off, ripping off your panties faster than you can finish your question. He’s between your legs in an instant, eyes rolling to the back of his head when you pull him closer, grinding onto his face because his tongue is ‘oh-so-good’ and he grinds into the bed beneath him at your moans.

Nick Leister who… loves seeing you in that pretty bathing suit. Watching you run into the water, hair tied back and not a care in the world, running into the waves and letting the water roll off your skin when you call for him to join you. And he does, painfully and running as fast as he can as to avoid the questions about the growing tent in his pants. He’ll throw you under water, splash and grab you, but all he can think about is how much better you’d look when he takes it off you. And he does, finally after so many torturing hours of watching you run around in that little bikini. He’ll skip his fingers under the fabric, fingers working their way through your folds to get to where you need him most. He’ll kiss down your chest, nipping and biting at the skin like if his life depends on it, leaving little hickies and bite marks over the swell of your breast. He isn’t going to hide it. Doesn’t want too. He’ll push the fabric to the side, lowering his swim trunks just enough to get inside you, and fighting the urge to finish right then and there.

Nick leister who is just addicted to you <3

[loafysainz]

The Royal Party | LN 4

lando norris!polo athlete x readers!princess x nick leister

warn: smut 18+, jealousy, posessive

fc: pinterest

prev chap

The grand ballroom of the palace was a spectacle of luxury, glittering chandeliers casting a golden glow over the sea of aristocrats, celebrities, and athletes mingling in their finest attire. The annual royal gala was an event of the highest prestige, a gathering of the elite where appearances mattered more than reality.

Y/N knew she looked good. No, scratch that—she looked fucking divine. The dress was designed to make a statement: elegant with just enough allure to have heads turning. And turn they did.

Lando knew it, too.

From the moment she stepped into the ballroom, his eyes hadn’t left her. Seated at the far end of the grand hall, drink in hand, jaw tight—watching. Brooding. The sharp tuxedo he wore did little to hide the barely restrained fury simmering beneath the surface.

And the reason for that fury?

Nick fucking Leister.

The golden boy of the British aristocracy. Polished, charming, and, most annoyingly, the man everyone thought was Y/N’s perfect match. He was the kind of man you married—on paper, at least. Royal lineage, wealth, and an effortless charisma that had the entire ballroom swooning.

Including Y/N.

Or at least, that’s what it looked like.

Lando clenched his glass tighter, watching the way Nick leaned in, whispering something in her ear that made her laugh. The sight of her smiling at another man made his blood boil. He wanted to tear that fucking smile off Nick’s face, wanted to grab Y/N and remind her exactly who she belonged to.

Nick wasn’t stupid. He could feel Lando’s stare burning into him, but he didn’t care. In fact, he enjoyed it. With a smirk, he raised his glass in Lando’s direction—a taunt, a challenge.

Big fucking mistake.

Lando set his drink down and moved, weaving through the crowd with purpose. The chatter and music became white noise as he closed the distance between them.

Y/N noticed him too late. One second, she was smiling at Nick, and the next, a firm hand was wrapping around her wrist.

“Lando—”

He ignored her, his grip unyielding as he turned to Nick.

“Back off, man.” Lando said, voice deceptively calm.

Nick raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Lando took a step closer, his presence overwhelming. “Walk away. Now.”

Nick chuckled, shaking his head. “You don’t get to decide who she talks to.”

Lando smirked, but there was nothing amused about it. “I do, actually. She’s mine.”

Y/N inhaled sharply, feeling the tension radiating off him. People were starting to notice, eyes flickering toward the scene unfolding.

Nick scoffed. “That’s funny. Because from where I’m standing, she doesn’t look like she belongs to anyone.”

That did it.

Before anyone could react, Lando grabbed Nick by the collar, yanking him closer until they were nose to nose. His voice dropped and lethal.

“Listen to me, you privileged little shit,” Lando growled. “You’re not even in the same fucking league as me. So don’t fool yourself into thinking you have a chance.”

Nick’s smirk faltered just slightly. “You’re insane.”

Lando chuckled darkly. “No, I’m just not stupid enough to let someone else take what’s mine.”

Y/N’s heart pounded. This was getting out of hand. She stepped between them, pressing her hands against Lando’s chest, trying to create space. “Lando, stop,” she whispered.

Lando didn’t move, his jaw tightening, his eyes still locked on Nick like he was seconds away from throwing a punch.

Nick scoffed, adjusting his jacket. “I’ll take that as my cue to leave.”

Y/N exhaled, relieved.

“But we can continue this conversation tomorrow,” Nick added, eyes flicking back to her. “Right, Y/N?”

Lando stiffened. His entire body went rigid, his grip tightening around her waist possessively.

Y/N cursed silently. “Nick, just go.”

Nick smirked. “See you soon, sweetheart.”

Lando nearly lunged, but Y/N quickly placed a hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at her instead. “Lando,” she whispered, her voice soft, pleading. “Not here. Please.”

The room was watching. Murmurs spread through the crowd, eyes locked on them. Y/N subtly pressed a hand against Lando’s arm, signaling for him to leave first.

His eyes flickered between her and Nick before finally exhaling sharply. He leaned in, lips brushing against her ear. “You have five minutes,” he murmured darkly. “Then you find me.”

And with that, he turned and left.

The moment Y/N found him again, he didn’t waste time.

Lando pulled her into a darkened hallway, pressing her against the nearest wall. His hands were rough, desperate, tracing her curves like he needed to remind himself she was real, that she was his.

“You think it’s fucking funny?” he growled, his lips ghosting over her jaw. “Talking to him like that?”

Y/N gasped as his teeth grazed her neck, sucking just enough to leave a mark. “I was just trying to diffuse the situation—”

“Bullshit.” His fingers traced up her thigh, pushing her dress aside. “You like making me crazy, don’t you?”

Y/N gasped, her hands flying to grab his wrist, stopping him before he could go any further. “Lando, please,” she whispered, her voice desperate. “Don’t be crazy. This is a public place.”

Lando let out a low, humorless chuckle. “You think I give a fuck?” His eyes burned into hers, dark and unrelenting. “You fucking hurt me, Y/N.”

His grip tightened slightly, frustration rolling off him in waves. “You stand there, laughing with him, letting him think he has a chance. Like I’m nothing.”

“Lando—”

“No,” he snapped, his control slipping. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to fucking toy with me.”

Before she could respond, his lips crashed onto hers again, harder, rougher. A desperate, punishing kiss, full of anger and something deeper—something darker.

Neither of them noticed the faint click of a phone camera nearby.

Someone had been watching.

And this? This was about to become a scandal.

[amnesique]

Hi! Can you write a possessive Nick Leister imagine?

oh, mami — nicholas leister

the music was roaring in the speakers, people were whistling and cheering, so that the sound of the car wheels accelerating on the asphalt could barely be heard in all this chaos.

this is how one of the illegal car races was described. the car races where all the four gangs of the city used to be present, with the well-known son of a billionaire, nicholas leister, and the dangerous ronnie being the centre of the attention.

nicholas revved the engine, and the members of his gang, the red one, whistled for him once more.

you rolled your eyes, and fed up with the lead the leister young man had on your gang member, the blue ones, you placed your hands on the cheeks of another member of your gang and pulled him into a sensual kiss, just as the red car of that one rival passed by you, causing him to clench his jaw and lose his concentration. nicholas leister would never admit it, but he let you, a member of one of the opposing gangs, get under his skin.

you continued to kiss him and and cling onto his body, under the watchful eye of nicholas, who barely managed to get back on track, only after losing his lead.

his jaw was still clenched and he imagined how many ways he could kill the one you had the courage to kiss and touch him, as he pressed the accelerator without a second thought.

meanwhile, lion, his right hand, started yelling at him, cursing, trying anything, just to get his attention. and all in vain.

after all this time, the blue gang had managed to win a race with the famous leader of the red gang, and that was only because of you.

you pulled back, grinning satisfied with your plan, and walked away from the boy in front of you, walking away, not before giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder and a playful wink.

you took a walk by yourself where you knew you'd find a toilet, and after you got out of it, you were suddenly pulled and pressed against a wall by a much stronger and better-built body than yours, a man's body.

and before you could make any sound or see anything in the darkness that surrounded you, a hand made contact with your lips, blocking your cries from being heard.

the man you were glued to moved his mouth to your ears. "i don't think this was the smartest move on your part, what do you say?" he whispered to you.

at the sound of his voice you shuddered to the core and your toes curled involuntarily, feeling your knees weaker than they were minutes ago.

you knew that voice all too well.

when he realized you had no intention of yelling anymore, the man freed you and he took a few steps back, looking down on you due to the height difference.

"nick," you whispered his name in disbelief.

"in the flesh, love," he said, full of himself, and moved closer to you again, enough to put his hand on your waist and press lightly. "how did you allow that loser to kiss those lips that belong to me?" he asked you, his free hand casually touching your bottom lip.

you quickly turned your head, making him withdraw his hand. "i wear the blues bandana, nicholas. you have no right to mess with me."

he chuckled, amused by your remark, and glared at you. "that hasn't stopped me in the past," he began and moved his head to the area between your neck and collarbone, leaving soft wet kisses at the base of your neck, "and it won't stop me now either."

a faint sound, like a silent plea, left your lips as they felt his other hand on your waist as well.

"it should," you said in a weak voice, weighing the option of pouncing him and walking away from him or the option of begging him to make you feel pleasure again, as only he had managed to do.

he moved away from your neck, only to make a disapproving sound, then to moving from your neck to your lips, like a hungry lion getting its food after a long time.

you kissed him back far too quickly, allowing his tongue to explore your mouth, while you would've barely stayed on your feet if his hands on your waist hadn't held you against the wall behind you.

his kisses were maddening, knowing how to soften any girl just the way he wanted to, and you weren't the strongest fighter against those.

he broke away from your lips as quickly as he approached it, making space to give you both time to breathe as he lifted your legs up to wrap them around his body. "did he kissed you as well as i do?” he asked you, his breathing heavy.

you were silent, going crazy with the desire you felt, as your area was throbbing against his because of the position you were in, and you threw your head back, parting your lips.

"tell me," he whispered in a more serious tone, pressing you into that wall, against his hard chest, as you did with that guy. "did that loser manage to get you as wet as i do?"

"no," you murmured, way too fast, before you could stop yourself.

"what you said?" he asked mockingly as he slipped a hand over the space between his body and hers, fumbling with the button of the illegally short jeans you were wearing. "i don't think i heard you," he added, making his way under the fabric of your jeans to cover the area where you needed him the most through the material of your underwear.

you took a deep breath, bitting your bottom lip, and you could swear you could feel how he was getting harder and harder by any action you managed to do. "he couldn't get me as wet as you do," you managed to say, while his hands could feel you even better. in this case, you wouldn't have had a chance to lie to him.

"that's what i wanted to hear,” he said with a smirk on his lips and removed his hand as quickly as he suddenly put you down, you sighing involuntarily at the lack of your body being so close to him. "now," he said as you glared at him as deer in the headlights of his car, "i hope i don't have to make sure no one comes near you with my fists, because, love, you know very well that i'm capable of doing that too."

he walked past you, winking at you, letting you yearn for him, just like you had done before with that guy.

[selfcontrolskey]

“You’re an asshole”

❗️A little bit was my idea but the rest isn’t my idea❗️

nicholas leister x reader

Sorry for the povs switching so much and for how long this is 😅

( can we please get more fics about this man )

You're fighting your enemy in the training room. Nicolas, apparently the best underground fighter ever according to lion.

As I step forward to hit him he quickly steps back. He's fast, l'II give him that.

I hit him again this time not giving him time to step back. He softly chuckles and touches his jaw where I hit him.

"Not bad"

I quickly regain my position in order to strike again. But this time he’s the faster one. He blocks my hit and knees me in the stomach.

I slightly stumble backwards.

That son of a bitch he knew it was bruised from my previous fight. He strikes again this time aiming for my face.

I duck just in time. “Is that all you’ve got?” I ask teasingly. I strike forward but he blocks my hit and turns me around so my back is against his chest.

“Is that all you’ve got?” He says in a mocking tone.

I chuckle. “oh no, I still have something just for you.” I lift my leg and hit him right in his area before he could react.

He lets go of me and stumbles backwards.

“Got you again.” I smile proudly.

Nick’s pov:

“Is that all you got?” I ask using the same words she did. A little laugh escapes from her mouth. her head touching my chin in the meanwhile.

“Oh no. I still have something special just for you.” Before I can figure out what that means I feel a stinging pain near my dick.

I let her go and stumble backwards.

After a few seconds I stand straight ignoring the throbbing pain.

“Aw I’m sorry did that hurt?” A little smirk appears on her face.

I’m gonna kill her.

Her smirk disappears into something more serious. I regain my position and get ready to defend myself.

She quickly moves and slides her legs under mine. I step back just in time.

This time I step forward and kick her in the leg making her loss balance. With that she falls to the ground, right on her back.

I can hear her trying to catch her breath. “I’m sorry did that hurt?” She slowly moves her head and I can see she’s getting angrier by the second. I like it when she’s angry.

She slowly stands up and gets ready for another round. She’s a tough one. I’ll give her that.

I shake my head and chuckle.

“What? Afraid to lose?” She says.

“Like hell I am.” I say getting my hands ready to fight.

“Good” She responds getting ready as well.

Suddenly she looks to the left catching my attention. What the hell is she looking at? As I turn my head I’m welcomed with a fist to my face.

I stumble backwards but mange to remain my balance.

“Oh. So that’s how we’re playing now huh?”

I slowly wipe away the blood from my lips and look straight at her. She’s enjoying this.

"What, didn't expect that from a girl?" She says wiping the blood from her knuckles.

I give her a small smile and attack. My left fist first which she blocks. Then my right one, hitting her jaw. She quickly recovers and tries to knee me in the stomach. I grab her knee right before it reaches me.

"Not this time" Panick flashes her eyes so quickly I might think I imagined it. I push her back and slide my foot under her standing leg.

She falls but takes me down with her. Now I'm on top of her pinning her wrists down. Heavy breathing coming from both of us.

"Ready to give up?"

your pov:

Now he's on top of me and pinning my wrists. Heavy breathing coming from both of us.

"Ready to give up yet?” He asks with that stupid smirk of his. I slowly move my head forwards. I can feel his his breath on my lips.

"You know what. I actually like this position" I say seductively.

"Oh come on, you should know you can't play the same game two times"

"What if l'm not playing?" I breath out.

His eyes piercing through mine. "Forgive me for not really trusting your word" He whispers in my ears.

I quietly chuckle. “Good decision" I quickly move and pin him to the ground. Sitting on his lap, this time me pinning him down. I slightly move forward making him groan.

"What? Cat got your tongue?” He quickly glances at me and I can see desire and anger build behind his eyes. "You know what, l'll give you one more chance."

"One last round" I pat his chest and get ready to get up. Two hands suddenly pull me back down. His hands on my waist preventing me from getting up again. "Don't"

Confusion and realisation hit me at the same time. "Aw you don't have a crush on me do you?" I say leaning forward.

His hands tighten around my waist. "Don't move.”

nick’s pov:

She quickly moves and get's on top of me.

Oh fuck.

I slightly groan causing her to look at me. She slowly leans forward and an intense feeling goes right trough my body.

"What? Cat got your tongue?"

No, you just made me hard..

I close my eyes trying to focus on anything else but her sitting on my fucking lap.

"You know what?" She responds "I'll give you one more chance" I quickly open my eyes and see that she's sincere.

"One. Last. Round" She says holding up a finger. She patts my chest and get's ready to stand up. No fucking way she is getting up now.

I grab her by the waist and pull her back down. Another sensation strikes right trough my body. fuck, I'm hard. She softly yelp’s and looks confusing at me.

But not for long, her brain quickly catches up and knows what is happening. Her eyes suddenly fill with pleasure. "You don't have a crush on me do you?"

She leans forward and I cant help but tighten my hands around her small waist. "Don't move” I breath out.

Fuck, this feels good.

"Think of my mom" she says out of the blue. Did she just say what I think she did?

"What the hell."

"What? You want me to turn you on?"

“Not fucking help.”

your pov:

"Think of my mom" I suddenly blurt out.

He quickly glances at me with a "wtf" look. "What the hell.” He says.

“What?” I ask offended. “You want me to turn you on?"

“Not fucking helping.” he says closing his eyes again.

"Okay, just give me a second to think"

He slightly groans.

“Yeah, sure. Please take your time.” I ignore his comment and think.

Okay, this might work.

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

He suddenly opens his eyes and looks at me. “Why, you interested?"

At that I laugh. "Oh please"

His eyes slightly darken and something moves in my stomach.

“Just answer it"

"You think you'd be straddling my lap if I had one?”

"I'm not straddling your lap, I am simply just sitting on it" I say with confidence.

"It's your fault I have to sit on it anyway, so hurry and make it disappear."

"It's not a toy you know, you can't just fucking control it.”

"Fine, just hurry"

He sotfly laughs and shakes his head. A few moments pass and he looks more relaxed.

"You ready?" I ask so we can finally fight again.

"No, just give me a few more seconds."

I see a small smirk form on his stupid face.

oh this bitch.

“You’re nasty.” I say hitting his chest. I quickly get up and hear him laughing still on the floor.

"You can forget that last round" I say walking out of the training area.

"Why? Because you can't beat me?" As I turn around I can see he's standing again.

"Cmon just say it." He says walking closer to me.

“Say what? That you're an asshole? Gladly." He takes one step forward making him even closer to me. I slowly lift my eyes to meet his.

“Say it.”

“Say what?”

"That I'm better than you" I softly snort at that. He has some serious ego issues.

"Fine, just come a bit closer."

He slowly grins and steps closer.

I put my hands on his chest and stand on my tippy toes to whisper in his ear.

"You're."

I wait a second before continuing.

"an asshole."

I put my leg behind his and push him backwards.

He lands with a loud thud.

“Oops.”

"Did you want me to say something else?"

He looks at me and anger fills his eyes.

"I'm gonna kill you"

"Good luck trying"

I give him a wink and leave the training facility.

Nick’s pov:

Before I can realise what she is doing I land with a loud thud on the floor.

"Oops" she says looking extra innocently. "Did you want me to say something else?"

I glance up at her, pure anger filling me once again. This woman is gonna fucking mess me up.

"I'm gonna kill you" I say with gritted teeth.

She softly grins and gives me a wink. "Good luck trying.” Then she turns around and leaves me, her ass swaying slightly with every step.

Fuck.

SORRY ABOUT THE POV CHANGING SO MUCH 😭

and yes I used the ‘cat got your tongue’ thing again. Bite me. But I hope you enjoyed !

[evermoresversion]

CLEANING AND PATCHING NICK'S WOUNDS AFTER A FIGHT.

A/N I apologize in advance if there are any grammatical or spelling errors. English is not my first language.

PAIRING Nick Leister x Fem!Reader.

TW/TAGS Suggestive content, mention of wounds and blood.

SUMMARY Nick loses a fight for the first time and you're the only one he wants to see after this, leaving you to clean his wounds.

NICK'S MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

It's well known that Nick knows how to fight well enough to come out unscathed from every fight he faces. But they say that there is a first time for everything.

So there was a first time for him walking out of a fight totally beaten up. His lip was split like his eyebrow, the cheekbone was completely purple and he has a black eye, besides that blood was beginning to drip from his lip.

He looked totally defeated.

"Nick!" you called him in a scream when you saw him lying face down on the ground. You tried to get closer but Lion stopped you until he himself got closer completely furious for having been so weak.

"I don't want to see anybody." He demanded turning his back to you when Jenna, Lion and Anna tried to approach him. "Where is she?" he asked realizing you weren't around. Besides that you were the only one allowed to see him so vulnerable. You're his safe place.

He turned around and when he saw you he walked towards you holding your hand, walking with you towards his car, leaving his friends abandoned in the place.

You didn't speak the whole way, watching him out of the corner of your eye.

Once at his house you both entered his room, you walked to the bathroom to find the first aid kit and return to the room, seeing Nick lying on his bed with his hands covering his face.

"Get up, love." You ordered softly and he obeyed you, sitting on the edge of his bed, you took a step to get between his legs, leaving the open medicine cabinet aside.

You took cotton and hydrogen peroxide, dipping the cotton with the liquid, rubbing the soft material over his wounds on his face, making him hiss.

"Sorry..." you commented, stopping for a moment, but he took your wrist to bring your hand closer to his face, inviting you to continue and you did so.

His gaze was lost, so much so that he didn't even notice when you finished cleaning him. You took his chin with your thumb and index finger.

"What do you have? What's going on with that pretty head of yours?" He would never get enough of your flattery, he took your waist pulling you closer to him, he buried his face in your abdomen and you ran your fingers through his hair, gently scratching his scalp.

"I was weak, I should have tried harder, I should have given more of myself." you felt the grip on your waist intensify.

"But love, you didn't know that would happen, it's not your fault." you murmured lowering your face to kiss his cheek and he denied letting go of your waist and uncovering his face from your abdomen.

His hair was messed up by your fingers a few seconds ago when they were in it.

"If it was my fault, if I…" you cut him off abruptly.

"No, I'm not going to allow you to blame yourself for something that clearly wasn't in your power, that's how it is, sometimes you win and sometimes you lose." you took his face in your hands, caressing his cheeks being careful not to touch his wounds. ""It's not your fault." His eyes were half open and he took your neck to kiss you with something similar to need.

He moaned in pain between your lips and you moved away from him, but he immediately brought your face closer to kiss you, his hands went down to your thighs, sitting you on his lap.

"Nick…" you murmured between his lips and he hummed, groaning as you pulled away. "you're hurt."

"and?"

"I don't want to hurt you anymore." you denied getting up from his lap, making him complain once more.

He flopped back on the bed once more, grunting as he accidentally hit a gash on his shoulder.

You smiled denying.

"I'm going to get something to eat and we'll watch a movie." You squeezed his leg affectionately, and he opened one of his eyes that had remained closed.

"Fine, but you owe me this." he demanded, making himself more comfortable on the bed and you nodded, laughing, knowing what he meant.

"Whatever you say, love."

disclaimer ── evermoresversion © 2023.

[stilessp]

Always loved you

warnings: smut, dry humping, choking, 18+ !!

*do not translate or copy my work!!*

summary: jj and yn hate eachother but when her and the pogues get stuck on the island you and jj were forced to sleep next to eachother, but the pent up sexual tension finally breaks.

These past few weeks have been hard to say the least i have been so horny but i get no privacy here honestly i’ve always got jj around me teasing me constantly and always being a dick, i met jj 7 years ago and for some reason he’s always had an issue with me so i just reciprocated it but i don’t hate jj if anything i’d love to jump his bones but he clearly doesn’t feel that way about me so i push my feelings down.

but today has been really hard it’s been really hot, hotter than usual and i just want some release and your snapping at everyone. JJ comes over to you and starts saying how i need to make a fire i just snapped “fucking do it yourself” and you walked away into your little tent/hut you made you had been in there for hours and you were finally about to drift off until jj came in and layed next to you, for some reason he thought you were asleep and he gets closer and wraps his arm around you “i wish you see me how i see you cupcake” you start smiling at his comment and you shove your ass back towards him feeling his rock hard cock on your lower back he groans but you start to move your hips against his slowly, now he knows your awake and he grabs your throat not hard but hard enough to let out an involuntary moan you turn over and sit on his lap moving, grinding and shoving your hips down just for some friction “ah is this why you’ve been a little brat all day huh princess, just wanted to be whored out ?” he says with a grin still not letting go of your throat “hm jay please” you moan “what do you want baby” you stop grinding on him and slowly move your hands down the his cargo shorts and undo the buttons “hm okay baby” he says pushing his hips up, holding your hair back he’s pushing your head down slightly all you can hear is his moans and your choking soon as you fed him twitching you pull away “what the fuck” he says as you just hum pulling your shorts down and hovering over him he grabs your hips and slams you down on to him “mhh jay please faster” he flips you over and starts going at a inhuman pace my legs shaking, nobody has ever made me feel like before i feel drunk i can’t speak i’m just a moaning mess “gunna cu-m” you moan so loud sure the others can hear you guys “me too baby come with me” hm okay you moan as you come together.

you wake up the next morning with a smile on your face to turn to him and he’s gone ?

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I hope you enjoyed leave me things to write in my inbox 🤍🦭🌟

[jammysworks]

smut below the cut

18+ MDNI

warning: p in v, ass grabbing, manhandling, oral mentioning (fem! receiving), jealous nick leister, dacryphilia, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it ladies and gentlemen), language

∞︎︎

“you’re so fucking needy, amor.” nick belted out through a groan. “grabbing onto him like that,” he continued as your figure began to squirm and moan underneath of him “you just can’t help yourself, huh? you got so wet at just the thought of me finding you begging to get your pussy ate by some imbécil.” he was so mad but all you wanted was his attention. he was just too busy with getting ready to race that he forgot about his girls needs. “mierda, stop squirming and take it.” he said as he gripped onto your left ass cheek toying with the flesh while his cock pounded into your sopping wet pussy. mewls and whines erupted from you; your back arching into a perfect u shape, your chest laying flat against his. grabbing onto his back seeming to be the only thing keeping you from slipping from reality. little did you know your nails were digging into the skin beneath, causing tiny droplets of blood to drip down. this infliction only seeming to stir him on more as he began going faster with his movements.

i got really lazy with this one, but improved work is on it’s way!! <3

[twistedreads]

Soaked in you— Nick Leister

summary— it’s you and Nick’s first time showering together and it gets steamy.

warnings- smut, fingering(fem received) handjobs, nipple play, dirty talk

a/n— Y’all I don’t write smut so bare with me 😭

Masterlist

The bathroom was filled with steam, the warm mist curling through the air as water cascaded from the showerhead, its rhythmic patter against the tile the only sound in the quiet room. Your heart was pounding, your skin already heated—not just from the rising temperature in the room but from the anticipation coiling in your stomach.

Nick stood in front of you, his golden-tan skin illuminated by the soft glow of the bathroom light, his curls damp from the humidity. His brown eyes, deep and unreadable, scanned your face with something both gentle and intense, as if he were trying to read your every thought.

This was your first time together like this.

Sure, things had gotten heated before—passionate kisses, stolen moments where hands had wandered a little too far, breathy whispers exchanged in the dark—but this? This was something new. Something uncharted.

You swallowed hard, your fingers gripping the hem of your shirt, hesitating.

Nick caught the hesitation immediately, his gaze softening. He stepped closer, his hands finding your waist as he leaned down, brushing his nose against yours.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “We don’t have to do this if you’re not ready.”

You looked up at him, your chest rising and falling a little too quickly. It wasn’t that you didn’t want this—you did. More than anything. But there was something about the vulnerability of it, the intimacy of sharing everything with him, that sent a nervous thrill through you.

Nick’s hands moved up, cupping your face gently. His thumbs traced slow, reassuring circles against your skin.

“You’re safe with me,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Always.”

The sincerity in his voice made the tension in your shoulders melt away. You exhaled, nodding slightly.

“I want to,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Nick searched your eyes for a moment before nodding, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips. His fingers trailed down your arms, slow and deliberate, until they reached the hem of your shirt.

“Let me take care of you,” he murmured against your lips.

Your breath hitched.

One by one, the layers between you were shed, the warmth of the room wrapping around you both like a cocoon. Every movement was unhurried, every touch lingering with meaning. There was no rush, no urgency—just the two of you, lost in each other, navigating this new territory together.

Nick stepped into the shower first, holding out a hand for you. You took it, letting him guide you under the stream of warm water. The sensation of it cascading over your bare skin sent a shiver down your spine, but the moment Nick’s hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him, every other sensation faded.

His body was firm, warm, his skin slick under your fingertips as you let your hands wander up his chest.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, his lips pressing against your shoulder, trailing slow, open-mouthed kisses up to your neck.

A soft sigh escaped your lips as he lingered there, his tongue flicking out against your pulse before he gently sucked at the sensitive skin. Your hands found his shoulders, gripping them as his kisses deepened, his touch growing more confident.

Nick’s hands roamed over your skin, tracing the curves of your body. His fingers danced across your chest, teasing your nipple until they hardened beneath his touch. You felt a surge of arousal as he cupped your breast, his thumb circling the sensitive peak.

“Nick,” you breathed, your voice shaky.

“Oh dear, ”he chuckles, pressing a kiss just below your ear.” Don’t tell me you’re nearly falling at the first hurdle?”

His words sent warmth flooding through you, your heart thundering in your chest.

As the warm water cascaded down, Nick’s lips closed around your nipple, sucking gently. You moaned, feeling a wave of pleasure as his tongue swirled around the sensitive peak.

“Oh, that feels so good,” you breathed, your hands threading through his hair.

He switched to the other breast, giving it the same attention. You arched your back, pushing your nipple deeper into his mouth, needy.

“Mmm… yes, just like that,” you whispered. You felt a vibration against your breasts, hearing Nick chuckle.

His fingers trailed down your belly, slipping between your legs and onto your clit.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he groans against your skin. “I love how your body response to me.”

You let out a moan.

As he continued to rub your pussy, Nick slides a finger inside you, curling it upward to stroke your inner walls. You gasped at the sensation, feeling yourself pulse around his finger.

“Oh God… Nick!” Your legs trembled beneath his touch.

“That feel good?” he asked softly against your skin, his finger moving in and out of you in a slow rhythm.

You nodded vigorously, unable to form words as his thumb slightly sped up and his finger stroked inside you.

“You like being touched like this?” he whispered dirty things in your ear, making you blush.

As he spoke, Nick slipped another finger inside you, stretching you slightly more. You whimper at the new fullness, feeling yourself grow even more wet.

“Fuck, yes.”

With two fingers now moving in and out of you in a smooth rhythm, Nick curled them both upward, hitting that perfect spot deep inside, making you let out a loud, throaty moan.

“Right there?” Nick asked huskily, speeding up his fingers, pumping faster now.

You could only manage a nod as sensations washed over you, sending shivers coursing down your spine.

His fingers moved faster now, curling, hitting that spot over and over until, finally, you felt yourself shatter into an orgasm. Your body went limp, but Nick’s arms caught hold of you, as he continues to finger you through your orgasm, keeping you upright even as your knees gave way.

“Woah, easy there, I gotcha,” Nick laughs.

For a moment, the only sounds in the bathroom were the steady patter of the water and your heavy, uneven breaths. You barely registered the way Nick slowly slid his fingers out of you, leaving you sensitive and pulsing in the aftermath of your release.

“That was the most sexiest thing I ever seen.” he says.

Then, as you blinked up at him, still lost in the haze of pleasure, you caught the way his deep brown eyes locked onto yours—dark, intense, filled with something unmistakably heat. Without breaking eye contact, he raised his slick fingers to his mouth and slipped them between his lips, sucking them clean with a slow, deliberate motion.

“God, you taste so good,” he murmured, his voice rich with devilish amusement. His gaze flickered over your flushed face, down to your parted lips, and then back up. “I could do that all night.”

The boldness of it sent another shiver through you, your stomach twisting in a fresh new wave of desire.

Nick leaned in, his breath warm against your cheek as he pressed a teasing kiss just below your ear. “Next time,” he whispered, his voice low and full of promise, “I’m gonna take my time with you. Taste you properly.”

His words sent a sharp jolt of heat straight through you, leaving you breathless all over again.

You swallowed hard, trying to collect yourself, but the way he looked at you—like he was already thinking about making good on that promise—made it nearly impossible.

Then, with a knowing smirk, Nick pulled back just enough to meet your eyes again. “But for now,” he mused, brushing his lips over yours in a fleeting kiss, “I think I need to be inside you.”

Suddenly, you felt an urgent need to connect with Nick. You grabbed his face, pulling him down to meet your lips in a passionate kiss. You taste yourself on his tongue but you don’t care. Your hands roamed over each other’s bodies, exploring every curve and contour. The water continued to cascade down around you, but you were lost in the sensation of being together.

As you kissed, your hand slipped down between your bodies, wrapping around Nick’s length. You started to stroke him gently, feeling his warmth and hardness in your palm.

Nick groaned, throwing his head back as he broke away from the kiss. His eyes were closed, his face contorted in a mixture of pleasure and ecstasy.

“You’re gonna make me cum if you keep that up,” he muttered, grabbing your wrist to still your movements.

You smirked, feeling a thrill at having this power over him.

Nick then grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you into another passionate kiss before breaking away, his voice husky with desire.

“Turn around and bend over,” he instructed, his eyes burning with intensity.

You obey, turning to face the wall as you bend over, your hands bracing yourself against the cool tile. Nick’s hands rub over your ass, squeezing it gently as he whispers how sexy you are.

“You have such a beautiful ass.” he says, his fingers digging deeper into your flesh. “I love the way it curves out from your back.”

You moan at the touch, feeling a surge of need as his fingers caress your skin.

Nick’s hands continue to explore your body, tracing the curves of your hips and thighs.

“Nick please.” You beg not being able to wait any longer.

He smiles at your neediest.” What ever you say baby.”

You feel him slide into you from behind, his dick filling you completely as he waits a few seconds for you to adjust.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice low and concerned.

You nod, taking a deep breath as you try to accommodate his length. “Yes,” you whisper back.

With that reassurance, Nick starts to move. At first, the pace is slow and gentle, but he quickly picks up.

“You’re so tight,” Nick growls in your ear. “I love how my dick feels inside you.”

He thrusts deeper into you, his hips pounding against yours.

“I love how you feel,” you gasp. “You stretch me out in the best way possible.”

Your words only seem to fuel Nick’s passion. He starts moving harder, faster now.

“You like that, don’t you?” he breathes. “You like when I fuck you hard?”

The bathroom was filled with the steady rhythm of water cascading from the showerhead, mingling with the slick, wet sounds of Nick moving in and out of you. The quiet, intimate space was overtaken by the soft, breathy gasps escaping your lips, the occasional low groan rumbling from Nick’s throat as he watched you unravel beneath his touch. The faint echo of skin against skin, the subtle squelch with each movement, and the way your moans mixed with the steam-heavy air created a symphony of raw, unfiltered passion , making the moment feel even more intense, even more consuming.

As the rhythm builds between you, it becomes almost frantic. Just when it feels like you’re about to cum, Nick suddenly pulls out, making you whimper slightly at the loss of contact.

“Why did you—?” you begin, but before you can finish, Nick cuts you off by turning you around and picking you up against the wall. He lifts you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist before he lines up back into you.

This time, he moves with reckless abandon, his hips slamming into yours with intense force. His dick drives deep into you, the sensation overwhelming.

You feel yourself getting closer and closer to release, your body trembling with anticipation. Nick’s hands grip your ass tightly, holding you in place as he moves with purpose.

His mouth claims yours in a fierce kiss, tongues tangling together as you both moan in pleasure.

“Oh my gosh, I’m gonna…”you cry out, unable to finish your sentence because of the overwhelming pleasure.

“Come on, baby. Let go for me,” Nick whispers in your ear, and that’s what sets you off.

Your orgasm hits you so intensely that your vision momentarily goes black, causing you to let out the most unrestrained moan you’ve ever made.

As you come down from your high,Nick continues to move, chasing his own high. He feels your walls pulsing around him.

Not long after, he reaches his peak as well, letting out a string of unfilthy words under his breath.

Nick’s breaths were heavy as he leaned his forehead against the cool tile, his arms still wrapped securely around you. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his body still trembling from the intensity of the moment.

You reached up, fingers threading through his damp curls, gently smoothing them back as he caught his breath. His eyes fluttered closed at your touch, a soft hum escaping his lips as he relaxed into your comforting presence.

After a moment, he slowly lifted his head, his gaze meeting yours. A small, tired smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead. Carefully, pulling out of you and unwrapping your legs from around his waist, lowering you back onto your feet with the utmost care. His hands remained on your waist, steadying you as he searched your face.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice laced with tenderness.

You nodded, a warm, content smile spreading across your lips. “Never better,” you whispered. “Are you?”

He let out a breathy chuckle, resting his forehead against yours. “More than okay,” he murmured, his fingers brushing over your cheek before tucking a damp strand of hair behind your ear.

The two of you stood there for a moment, wrapped in the warmth of each other, the water still cascading down your bodies. Then, out of nowhere, a small, breathless laugh escaped you. Nick raised an eyebrow, his lips curving in amusement.

“What?” he asked, chuckling as well.

“That was… a lot,” you admitted with a grin, your cheeks flushing slightly.

Nick smirked, shaking his head before leaning in to press a sweet, lingering kiss to your lips. “Yeah, it was,” he agreed, his voice laced with affection. “But I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

You smiled against his lips, your hands still resting in his hair. “I love you,” you whispered softly.

Nick’s expression softened instantly, his eyes filled with warmth as he cupped your face in his hands. “I love you too,” he murmured before kissing you again, this time slower, deeper—filled with nothing but love.

As the steam continued to swirl around you both, Nick finally pulled away with a playful glint in his eyes. “Come on,” he said, reaching for the body wash. “Let’s actually finish showering before we run out of hot water.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you reached for the loofah, playfully bumping his shoulder. “Fine. But you’re washing my hair.”

Nick grinned, already reaching for the shampoo. “Deal.”

And with that, the two of you continued your shower, basking in the warmth of the water—and each other.

[rafecameronzwhore]

Beach time gone wrong

Reader x Nick Leister

Warnings: mentions of blood, glass, hospitals, doctors

Tell me if there's more warnings I forgot

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

It was supposed to be a normal day at the beach

You and Jenna were sitting on your towels

You were reading while talking to Jenna

And the boys [nick and lion] were out in the water surfing

After a few moments you decided you had to go bathroom and since you and Jenna have already been to this beach multiple times you both knew where the bathrooms were [ a/n: ain't no way I'm letting them pee in the bushes 🙄]

You both decided to just walk away and not tell the guys

Time skip

You and Jenna were done with your business

As the two of you were walking back...

You felt a sharp pain in your foot

You stopped walking and looked done to your foot

"You ok, girl?" Jenna asked

"I think I stepped in some glass" you winced at the pain

"Shit, here I'll take you back to the cars and call the guys" Jenna put her arm around your shoulder and walked you back to the cars as you limped

After you sat down in the passenger seat of nicks car [you had the key]

Jenna went back to the main area of the beach to see the guys were back from surfing and were laying on the towels

"Where were yall" lion asked

"And where's y/n" Nick added

"So we went to the bathroom and while we were coming back she stepped in some glass and us now in the passenger seat of nicks car" Jenna explained to the boys

"Is she ok?!" Nick asked with wide eyes as he stood up

"She doesn't look ok, nick,"

Nick ran towards the cars, leaving the others there to pack everything up

When he finally got to the cars, he saw you sitting in his passenger seat with tears rolling down your eyes as you looked at your foot

He quickly ran up to you and asked if you were ok but he didnt get a response

"Nick, it hurts really bad" you said through the tears

"Shh, I know, love, wait, I'll take you to the hospital," Nick said, looking at your foot, noticing how it was bleed way to much

He gave you a towel to try and stop the bleeding with as he quickly drove you to the hospital

Time skip

You and Nick were laying in the hospital bed

Your foot was fine now because doctors had taken the glass out and patched it all up

Nick kissed your forehead and asked "Are you ok my love"

And to that you just nodded your head no having the energy to reply since you were way to comfortable on his chest

A doctor had come in no long after and had dismissed you saying not to wall to much for the next 3 weeks and get lots of rest

And with that nick carried you bridal style back to his car

The end.

SIKE

Meanwhile with Jenna and lion:

"DID THEY REALLY JUST LEAVE US HERE?!?!?!"

The two of them still stood at the beach with no ride and the bad full of towels, clothes and books

Don't worry, they got a ride from Mario because he's everywhere when someone's stranded 😉

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Ok that's it now sweets

I want to thank @amnesique for making the post about how I have no ideas and am brain dead

And @christmas2009 for the idea

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

Mean It

Synopsis: it’s hard to act like you don’t want someone. not when it seems like they can’t decide if they’ll want you when the sun comes up. but protecting your heart comes first, even if it means acting like you don’t care too.

The London skyline glows against the dark, the city alive with lights and distant sounds. The air is thick with the scent of rain, pavement still slick from the earlier downpour. You stand outside Nick’s penthouse, arms wrapped around yourself, trying to find the courage to leave.

You should.

But you never do.

The door creaks open behind you. You don’t have to turn around to know it’s him. His presence is enough—heavy, suffocating, something you feel in your bones.

“You always do this,” his voice is low, rough like he’s been smoking too much.

You exhale sharply. “Do what?”

Nick steps closer, the space between you growing smaller, more suffocating. “Act like you don’t care. Like this doesn’t mean anything to you.”

You turn to face him, your chest tightening at the way he looks at you—like you’re something fragile, something breakable, something he wants but refuses to claim.

“It doesn’t,” you lie.

Nick scoffs, shaking his head. His jaw tightens, hands slipping into the pockets of his leather jacket. “Yeah? So why are you still here?”

Your breath hitches. You don’t have an answer, not one that won’t destroy you both.

The city hums around you. A siren wails in the distance. The wind brushes against your skin, cold and biting, but not as sharp as the silence between you.

“You should go,” he mutters. His voice lacks conviction.

You swallow hard. “Is that what you want?”

Nick hesitates. He always hesitates. You watch the conflict play out in his expression—the way his hands clench at his sides, the way his mouth presses into a hard line, the way his eyes flicker with something dangerously close to regret.

“You know it’s not,” he finally admits, voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart stammers, but you refuse to let yourself feel hopeful. You’ve done this before—this dance of almosts and maybes. And it always ends the same way: with you walking away, with Nick pretending he doesn’t care.

“I can’t keep doing this, Nick,” you say, voice unsteady. “I can’t keep being something you only want when it’s convenient for you.”

His gaze darkens. “That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” Your hands tremble, but you force yourself to meet his eyes. “You pull me in, you push me away. You kiss me like you need me, but you never let me stay.”

Nick exhales sharply, raking a hand through his hair. He looks tired, like he hasn’t slept in days. “I don’t know how to do this,” he mutters, voice raw.

“Do what?”

“This.” His hands move wildly, frustration laced in every word. “Feel something. Want something. Want—” He stops himself, jaw clenching. “Want you.”

Your chest tightens. You should hate him for this, for being so reckless with your heart. But you don’t. You never do.

“Then show me,” you whisper.

His eyes snap to yours.

“Kiss me like you mean it,” you continue, stepping closer. “Like you’ll still want me tomorrow.”

Nick stills, his breathing uneven. His eyes flicker to your lips, then back to your eyes. For a moment, you think he’s going to push you away again, that he’s going to let the weight of whatever this is crush him.

But then—

He moves.

Fast. Desperate.

His hands grip your face, fingers tangling in your hair, and then his lips are on yours—fierce, consuming, like he’s trying to memorize you. Like he’s terrified of losing you.

It’s different this time. There’s no hesitation, no reluctance. Just need.

Your hands fist into his jacket, pulling him closer, deeper. The taste of cigarette smoke lingers on his tongue, mixing with something unmistakably him. His lips move against yours with a hunger that makes your knees weak, makes you forget every reason you ever had to leave.

Nick kisses you like he’s drowning, like you’re the only thing keeping him afloat. His hands slide down your back, pulling you flush against him. You can feel his heart pounding against your own, erratic and wild.

But it’s not enough.

Not yet.

You pull back, just enough to look at him. His pupils are blown, his lips swollen. His breathing is ragged, and he looks at you like you’re the only thing that exists.

“Tomorrow,” you murmur, searching his face. “Will you still want me tomorrow?”

His hands tighten on your waist. For a second, you think he might lie, might tell you what you want to hear. But then—

“I don’t know how to want anything else,”

[amnesique]

bad liar — nicholas leister

he is going to pay, you thought to yourself as you approached the specific red car when everyone was distracted by the break and the owner was who knows where, doing who knows who.

you opened the gas tank quickly, being prepared to pour quite a large amount of water into it, wanting to harm the engine of his beloved car. you wanted to hit him where it hurt the most.

you knew how much that car meant to him, like to any other boy.

"what the hell are you doing here?" a low voice came from behind you, in a harsh whisper, and your hand froze on the gas tank flap.

you intentionally let the container of water fall from your hand on the cold ground, cursing under your chin, not before turning to him, looking at him with wide eyes through your thick lashes.

"what do you mean?" you tried to play the fool, even though you knew he was good at reading you.

“don't act a fool with me,” he read your mind and put his hands on the car behind you, blocking your way out.

you took a deep breath and let your back to bend against the door of his car, which you had thought of destroying it just minutes before.

"who made you do this?" he asked, moving so close to you that his words tickled your lips. "was it ronnie?"

you exhaled the air from your lungs, over his full lips. "i don't know what you're talking about," you replied, trying to keep up with your role.

"is that so?" he asked, a rhetorical question, and moved closer to your ear, breathing over it, as one of his hands wrapped around your waist, squeezing gently. you were wearing a crop top and his touch felt like it burned you.

you nodded, surprised by his sudden touch on your skin, and he took the moment as a sign to continue what he was doing, slowly —but surely— moving his hand lower and lower. "are you sure?" he asked.

you stopped a sigh from escaping your lips, bringing them together.

you nodded again.

"you're not very good at acting against me, you know that, right?" he teased you, his both hands now slipping under the material of the black short skirt you were wearing, tracing its way to cupping your ass.

"fuck you," you briefly murmured the only words you were able to say, being lost in his touch.

a low chuckle left his lips, accompanied by his signature grin. "you would love to do that, wouldn't you?" he gripped your skin tighter between his fingers, pulling you closer to him, pressing you against his hard chest and earning a soft whine from you as you felt his bottom against yours. only a few pieces of material will stop you. "i knew you'd love it," he answered to himself, being too sure of himself because of the sound you made because of him.

"it's not what you think," you said, trying to keep control of your own body, but the weak tone of your voice was giving you away.

he looked at you, running his tongue over his cheek, only for him to grin again. "no?"

"no," you said, and tried to pull yourself away from him, but he pulled you close again, creating a slight rubbing sensation that made you close your eyes.

“you're a bad liar,” he said and took his hands off of you, as he walked around the car and got behind the wheel, getting ready for the race and leaving you to regret not being honest with him.

[blainesebastian]

ex-something

word count: 11,109 ship: Nick Leister x reader rating: NC-17 (for some smut, suggestive sexual language and expletives) summary: Just because you and Nick are broken up doesn’t mean that you’re over one another. notes: really appreciate the overwhelmingly positive response on my first nick x reader post :) hope this is just as enjoyable! i have a masterlist! notes 2: gifs from this gif pack

You get it—relationships change, that’s true with anything. You’ve had friendships that have evaporated into thin air or have fused together thanks to one night, boyfriends who promise they’d hand you the moon but couldn’t even show up when you needed them. You’re also different, you’re not the same person from year to year, nor day to day. Small, minute shifts sometimes make the greatest ripple effects. It’s good to see how something can adapt, how you can realize one thing and decide on another. 

Maybe you should have realized that you and Nick were never going to work—a thought that’s ugly that sprouts in your mind like a weed. Like ivy twisting around your ribcage and squeezing. You know him like the back of your hand, have been part of the same circles for so long—the orbiting around one another felt inevitable. 

So maybe the disintegration was too. 

Nick’s come a long way since you’ve known him in opening up, both of you bringing so much baggage to the table that you could no longer see the surface. Everyone has their own weight to carry, their own shit to get through, but it felt like…what you were carrying was no longer heavy when he was around. You both shared things, secrets in the dark, things you felt like couldn’t be shared with anyone else. While that should have caused the bond between you to strengthen, it created cracks and fragments that were sharp enough to cut the skin. 

Nick has trouble trusting that people won’t leave him, and you have trouble trusting that something will last the way it’s supposed to. As awful as it sounds, you never thought you and Nick would be together long-term. It’s not about him, but about yourself—about not deserving something good, about losing someone you were never supposed to have in the first place. 

When you began to pull away, creating distance and space, Nick overcompensated by yanking harder. He leaves you before you can leave him. The break-up, though surprising, is…somehow amicable, even though the devastation of it ending was clear on both your faces. Like a roadmap of a decimated city, the skyline crumbling into itself. 

The sudden destruction is so ugly that neither of you can look away. There’s regret almost instantly, that much is obvious, and yet neither of you speak up to change anything. You just…part ways, Nick leaving first.

You let him go, you allow him to push you and keep that chasm of space, because it was never meant to work out, right? 

“He’s in love with you, babe,” Jenna tells you one night over her house. “That’s never gonna change.” 

“Guess not enough.” You mumble—but you’re not innocent. You didn’t chase after him. 

“Well I never said he was smart,” Jenna teases, attempting to lighten the mood, and a smile twitches the corners of your mouth but you can’t reply. You shake your head, running a hand over the side of your face before lying back on her bed. 

But Nick is smart. He’s smart, and calculated, and even though he sometimes thinks with his fists, he knows the consequences of actions before he makes them. He knows exactly what choice he’s made and why he’s done it. 

Which is one of the reasons you can’t bring yourself to tell him he’s wrong. 

—

You miss Nick like you never knew you could. It’s one of those cliché things that you don’t understand what’s missing until it’s gone. There’s an absence that feels like a force, that sits on your chest, that makes it hard to breathe. An ache that begins behind your ribs and pulses outward. You miss things that aren’t altogether obvious—things you never knew you thought about until they pop-tap-pop like morse code in your mind. 

You miss his hands, the way they felt on your body, his fingers brushing through your hair or lingering along your hip. The squeeze on your knee or the gentle pattern of circles along your spine. You miss his mouth, the way the corner quirked up when he found something ridiculous, the way it felt on your own, his lips on your cheek, your shoulder, between your legs. You miss the way your bodies felt lined up, curled up in bed to sleep or slotting together during sex. You miss the sounds he used to make. You miss the gentle crinkle of his nose before he laughed, you miss that too; the laughing. 

But most of all you miss the way he stood by you, protected you, cared about you, a driving power that’d run anyone else over if you needed something. You miss the way he made you feel loved, actual love—something real and tangible and consistent. Something you didn’t know you deserved. 

It’s too late to take back what you’ve done and you lay awake at night, sometimes, wondering what would have happened if you would have tried to talk to him instead of letting your thoughts get the best of you. 

—

Just because you and Nick are broken up doesn’t mean that you’re over one another. 

—

Jenna drags you to Anna’s party—literally, she has to drag you. 

“Enough moping,” She sing-songs. “Time to put on your tightest dress and your best lipstick and have a fucking good time.” 

You roll your eyes but…she’s not wrong. So you follow her lead. Little black dress, comfortable shoes, red lipstick. It brings out the color of your eyes, it matches with the tiny, ruby, heart-shaped earrings you’re wearing and it draws people to look at your lips. But most of all? It makes you feel good. Your mother has always had a saying, to ‘dress your best when you feel your worst’, and you suppose that’s what you’re doing. 

Surviving. 

And sometimes? That’s more than okay. 

“Wish this party wasn’t here, though.” You comment, a soft sigh leaving your lips as you enter the lavish home of Anna. Anna who is probably salivating at the concept that Nick’s single again. You’re sure he’s here tonight, you don’t need to ask Jenna to know. You smooth your fingers along your dress, adjusting your small purse so it sits on your hip. 

You and Jenna wouldn’t exactly call Anna a friend…a frenemy, maybe? Maybe not. But Jenna smiles over her shoulder, “Shouldn’t let her expensive booze go to waste, should we?” 

You let out a soft laugh—you suppose that’s true. 

The night swirls forward with a lot of dancing, a messy game of darts, and almost too many shots. You roll your hips to the beat of the music, a grin on your face as Jenna bounces in time to the base, her hands finding yours and squeezing before giving you a twirl. It’s in that spin that you see him, leaning against the back of the couch on the outskirts, watching you. 

Or maybe that’s a trick of the light, or the hazy alcohol licking your common sense. Either way, you don’t look back over your shoulder towards him, you can’t. You wish that Jenna doesn’t call over the music that she needs water, because your knees suddenly feel like jello at the concept of staying on this makeshift dance floor alone. So you don’t. 

You make your way through the crowd to follow her, lingering, and hate yourself for your eyes being pulled from the task at hand…towards Nick. 

He looks gorgeous tonight, but you suppose that’s not a surprise. Jeans, a white t-shirt, an oversized jacket. It’s pretty textbook and yet it’s enough to practically sway you off kilter. Without being close to him, you can smell the leather of his jacket, the expensive cologne, something purely him tying it all together. You can feel the heat of his body, the chill of the thin silver chain he’s wearing and the rings on his fingers over your skin. 

An ache begins low in your stomach, which only turns sour when his eyes flitter to you and then look away. It’s so quick it feels like a slap to the face, his own expression impassive, like he has a million better things to do than be standing around at this party. You know his masks well, the ones he puts on when he thinks no one is looking, the ones he peeled off when he was around you. You know this is his favorite one—pretending he doesn’t care, when he does. 

Chewing on your lower lip, you take a step towards him though you’re not sure why. To speak to him, maybe? To make a joke about how his face looks like it was carved in stone? That if he keeps making that expression it’s going to stick like that. But then he shifts when someone comes up beside him—

fucking Anna. 

You stop short, trying to tell yourself to turn around, to get some water, to go back to having fun with Jenna. And yet, like a car crash, you can’t seem to look away. Anna has always been obvious about her feelings for Nick, whether it’s something genuine or just purely physical—it doesn’t matter. She practically molds herself to his side, a pretty grin on her face, talking about something that you can’t hear about—but her hand glides down his arm. 

There’s a small, gentle tilt to Nick’s lips, ever so subtle, but it’s enough to make it feel like the floor is opening up underneath you. 

Turning on your heel, you move through the crowd towards the bathroom, trying to quell the nausea rolling in your stomach. You try to tell yourself that you’re overreacting, that it’s not fair for you to have a reaction like this, that Nick is single and he can do whatever the fuck he wants… regardless that Anna is the worst. 

It hasn’t been too long since you’ve broken up, and yet you find yourself trying to rationalize that it shouldn’t hurt like this. You know that’s a defense mechanism, that trying to convince yourself that you’re okay is just something to keep yourself from hurting. But maybe it’d be good to feel that hurt, to let it in instead of shoving it deep in a box that’ll remain unopened. 

Maybe if you let yourself hurt, you wouldn’t be spiraling over Nick’s almost smile at Anna. 

When you go for the bathroom door, it’s locked, and a groan leaves your lips because of course. Running a hand over your forehead, you lean back against the opposite wall, waiting, allowing your eyes to close as your head tips back. 

“You look a little nauseous.” 

Nick’s voice jolts you out of your position against the wall, almost setting you off balance. When your eyes dart to him, there’s that playful quirk to his lips, warm amusement in his brown eyes. His jacket is missing—you hate that you wonder if it’s around Anna’s shoulders. You straighten your shoulders, letting out a breath as you turn to look at him. 

He’s not wrong, you are nauseous. But it’s not from the alcohol. “Think this house just does that to me.” 

Nick smirks, shaking his head as he takes a few steps towards you. He stops short, too short, leaning his shoulder against the wall. His eyes dance over your form, making you squirm, hating how he seems to see right through you. Like you’re made of glass. Heat gathers low in your stomach and pulses between your legs, that familiar ache comes back in the center of your chest. You miss him and you fucking hate that you do. 

Tearing your gaze away, you curl your hair around your ear, glancing back towards the bathroom door. Sheesh, what is someone doing in there? 

“Is it the house or is it someone in particular?” 

You scoff out a soft laugh—fuck, he’s got a lot of nerve. “Is that any of your business?” 

The smile he gives you is something slow and knowing, his gaze wandering to your lips, lingering on the red lipstick there. Butterflies erupt in your stomach, fluttering up towards your ribs, living there on the bones. The way he’s looking at you digs under your skin in the best way. 

“Think it’s completely my business.” He replies, sticking his one hand in his pocket. You can picture his fingers flexing, maybe trying to resist touching you. You love the sound of that. It’s one of the reasons you decide to flip the script, to take a little power back when he won’t stop staring at your mouth. Two can play this game—whatever game this is. 

Taking a step towards him, you say, “Is my lipstick your business?” 

Nick draws in a slow breath, it may seem causal, but you can see the heat darken the color of his eyes. Regardless of how things have played out between you two, things that maybe should have never happened in the first place (breaking up sounds like it was a stupid idea), you know that you feel safe with him. It’s that safeness that has you eliminating space, the toe of your shoe bumping into his. 

He’s not that much taller than you but it feels like he’s towering, eyes zeroed in on your lips. He lifts his hand, brushing his thumb over your lower one, purposely smudging your red lipstick, 

“You never seemed to be jealous of anyone when we were together.” He whispers, his breath fluttering over your cheek and yet it feels like a bucket of ice water tossed over you.  A reminder. Dick. 

You lean further into his touch, your noses bumping, close enough to kiss him but you don’t. Nick goes dangerously still and licks his lips. 

“Unsurprised that you didn’t seem to know me very well.” 

And with that you pull back, putting distance between your bodies. You wish it was enough to get your head on straight. Nick rubs his fingers over his thumb, erasing any traces of lipstick, like it never even happened. 

You wished it didn’t sting to see it. 

“I’m sure you wouldn’t want to keep Anna waiting.” You cross your arms over your chest, a clear defensive move but almost creating a shield as well, protecting yourself. 

You’re not looking at him but he lingers, a soft hum leaving his lips. He then moves to the bathroom door that…still hasn’t opened? Jesus, who’s in there? Though you try not to think about how often you and Nick found an empty bathroom during a party, a dark corner, a place where hands could roam and lips could nip. 

He jiggles the handle and pushes, your mouth falling slightly open—

“The door sticks,” He says, amused, eyes bright. And then turns to head back down the hall. 

Well, fuck. 

—

Nick leaves the party before you do but you’re not going to deny that you feel a zing of enjoyment that Anna’s left behind. And she looks pissed. 

—

Time crawls forward—it’s somehow achingly slow at the same time that it spins like a top. You and Nick are unfortunately like magnets, stuck in one another’s orbit. You suppose that’s the downside of having the same group of friends, seeing one another is unavoidable. It’s not…the worst thing, despite the prickly conversations you’ve been having. You know the fallout is a reflection on how good your relationship could be. There’s still strong emotions lingering—guilt, regret, love. It stains everything around you both. 

There’s a moment that comes and goes, just like your feelings, about having a conversation with Nick. About explaining to him why you were pulling away—that your parents have a shit relationship, that their divorce and their problems and their burdens sometimes sit in your bloodstream in a way you can’t put into words. You’re used to people disappointing you, you’re used to relationships not carrying merit—the only good one you’ve ever been in had been with Nick. And sometimes you were afraid that you weren’t worthy of it, that eventually he’d realize it too. 

That he’d leave. That all good things come to an end. 

Maybe then he’d crack wide open and explain that he likes to hurt people before they can hurt him. That it was a mistake. 

That you can start over. 

That thought is gone as quickly as it comes. Everything happens for a reason, right? There’s no need to go backwards when you need to focus on what’s ahead. Just because a relationship didn’t work out doesn’t mean that…you and Nick can’t be what you were before. 

Friends. Good friends. 

—

“Can you check again, please?” You ask, rubbing the back of your neck as you hold up a line at this charity event that your parents were supposed to attend. 

Well—your parents decided to get a divorce three months ago and neither of them wanted to get dressed up and go. You get it, you really do, they don’t want to spend time with one another anymore. They want to continue separating their assets and not be in one another’s lives unless they have to. You're the bridge between and that’s…that’s something you’re coming to terms with. 

You tried to explain to both of them that you’ve been wanting to go to this, that this charity event is about donating money to cleaning up the ocean. That plastic removal and creating turtle sanctuaries and doubling-up efforts on proper recycling is really important to you. It always has been—this shouldn’t be some sort of surprise. 

And yet neither of them can get their shit together to just be present. To go with you. 

So whatever, fine. At this point you’re used to feeling like you’re doing things by yourself, and that’s how you decide you’re going to go. By yourself. 

Except for some reason, your name isn’t on the guest list. 

Vanessa, who’s in the same social circles as you, scowls behind the podium. She must be some sort of volunteer in whatever rotations that rich kids fall into, her nose wrinkling as she taps her fingers down the so-called list that you’re missing from. 

“Sorry—who are you again?” 

You feel your cheeks heat in frustration, refusing to get flustered even though you’re sure that’s her intention. There’s this group of girls that are always hanging out with Anna at any party you’ve ever been to. Vanessa knows exactly who you are. 

You bite down on the inside of your cheek, can feel people getting restless behind you, wanting to get inside to escape the chill in the evening air. You’re not sure whether your parents took themselves off the guest list when they decided they weren’t attending or whether Vanessa is just being a bitch. 

“Y/N,” You say your name and add your last, just in case there’s any confusion. 

Vanessa purses her lips, about to say something nasty, when her gaze catches something over your shoulder. Her entire demeanor changes—her shoulders relax, there’s an easy smile on her face, eyes soft. You already know who it is before he speaks. 

“Is there a problem?” Nick asks, the warmth of his body at your back. You feel yourself bristle, not turning around. 

“Nick, hi,” Vanessa offers. 

Nick ignores her, his gaze falling to your own when you finally tip your chin. You turn a little, crossing your arms over your chest. He’s dressed in all black; slacks, dress shirt, overcoat, it makes the softness of his brown eyes and the golden curls in his hair stick out even more. 

“You alright?” He lifts his eyes away from you just briefly and you know he’s checking the crowd for your parents who aren’t there. 

“She’s not on the guest list.” Vanessa sounds altogether too pleased at informing him. 

“Your parents made these reservations months ago,” His attention doesn’t waver from you.  

You swallow, giving him a small smile as another podium opens up to get guests inside since this one is obviously backlogged. You resist the urge to just give up, to head back down the steps and go home.

“I know.” You reply, and Nick’s head tips back just slightly, recognition flashing in his eyes. Months ago. Your parents. The divorce. 

He turns to Vanessa, finally acknowledging her. “There’s space at my table for her.” 

“Nick,” You say gently, touched by the sentiment, by him trying to help, as Vanessa visibly bristles. 

“All the tables are filled—“

Nick cuts her right off, voice cold and sharp as glass. “Then I suggest you figure it out, Vanessa, because Y/N’s my plus one.” 

Vanessa scoffs, waving us in, muttering whatever under her breath. Nick’s hand falls to your lower back, encouraging you to step forward to walk inside. You roll your lips together, glad you’re not wearing lipstick tonight before turning to look at him in front of the coat-check. 

“You didn’t have to do that.” 

Nick gives you a soft smile, motioning you to turn around so he can help you take your coat off. “Like I’d get in-between you and saving the otters tonight.” 

You can’t help the bubble of laughter that threatens to slip out, amusement pulling your mouth into an honest smile. Something warm and comfortable and feels far too familiar with him. 

“Sea turtles.” You correct. “I’m worried about the sea turtles.” 

You’re not sure why he’s here if he doesn’t really know what the event is for, but you bite down on the inside of your cheek from saying that to him. A twinge of warmth butterflies your stomach in hopes that he came because he knew you’d be here. 

“Yeah, that’s what I said.” 

Your lips twitch and you smooth your hands down your dress, removing imaginary wrinkles. “Thank you.” You add. 

Nick’s hand slides effortlessly into yours to tug you towards the open doors and awaiting tables. He doesn’t say anything back, but he does squeeze your fingers. 

—

When you donate an amount at that charity event, Nick doubles it. 

—

It’s easy to get lost in those simple touches, it’s always been something so easy between you and Nick. That communication runs deep. Sometimes, you think, that words often get in the way. A misplaced phrase, a misunderstanding, syllables stuck under tongues or behind teeth. There’s never been any confusion in how you touch one another, in how Nick’s hands convey a love language that maybe words can’t. 

The problem is that touch between you two is sometimes too much, too honest, too real. Too complicated. 

How are you supposed to move on and get over him if you’re constantly near one another? If one brush of his fingers turns into a playful squeeze at your hip, if one lingering gaze ignites into him brushing his lips against your temple? 

You convince yourself that you can somehow create space, that it won’t be so difficult, that the universe has to be on your side here—that even though it’s hard? It’ll be good for you in the long run. 

Turns out the universe is a bitch. 

—

There’s too many moving bodies on the dance floor, it pushes you and Nick closer and closer together. 

To be fair, you’re in a tight circle of friends and beats are pulsing through the tight spaces. You’re in a tiny slip dress, a pair of high-top converse sneakers to move easily, which just ends up being a bunch of bouncing and swaying to the beat at a wicked pace. Jenna’s grin is wide as she throws her arms around you and you laugh, tipping your head back towards the ceiling. 

You love nights like this, the feeling of freedom, your heartbeat loud in your ears, no concerns other than when the next drink is gonna be bought. Lion tugs your dance partner away, twirling her into a circle and you back up to avoid the spin—

And bump right into Nick. 

The man is like black hole—endless, all-encompassing. He’s dressed simply, but he could probably wear a paper bag and still have the same sex appeal. Lean, tapered body, intricate line tattoos on muscled biceps and you try not to think about the set of Roman numerals that you used to love to kiss on his collarbone. You’re close enough to see the light sheen of sweat sticking to his skin, deepening the scent of his cologne and him somehow. You want to run your hands through his curls and tug—

You must show how you feel right on your face because Nick steps closer, his hand reaching for you, sliding it around your waist to pull you flush against him. It’s so confident and knowing that it nearly takes you out at your knees. 

You know you could pull away and that he’d let you, but the moment his fingers curl against your back, the moment he gathers a bit of the fabric of your dress between his fingers—you know you’re not going anywhere. 

The weight and heat of his body against your own feels like coming home. 

You dance like that for a while, pressed against one another, your arms resting on top of his shoulders, fingers against his neck, curling into the bottom of his hair. He slips close enough at one point to press a kiss to your shoulder, something that you ignore. You have to. 

And yet your fingers dig into his shoulders and Nick pulls back, eyes dark, on your lips. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

You’re about to say something, maybe mention grabbing water or stepping outside—but Nick’s thumb begins to trace circles through the thin material of your dress against the underwear line on your hip. A struggled gasp leaves your lips, and he must feel it more than hear it, a slow smile curving his handsome mouth. 

“I need to—“ You take a step back, almost running into someone else. Nick’s arms stabilize you from stumbling, even though he eventually lets you go. You immediately regret opening your mouth. “Bathroom.” 

You turn and make a b-line towards the restrooms before he can say anything. The sharp coolness off the dance floor manages to shake reality into focus and you run a hand over your face, a soft laugh rumbling in your chest. 

Jesus. 

You don’t end up using the bathroom, just leaning against the wall near them and breathing, trying to center yourself. It’s blissfully devoid of people back here and you need that. Your body aches in a delicious way, a throb of heat still present between your legs. 

And apparently it’s not going to go away, because Nick rounds the corner. 

“Nick—” His name barely slips out from between your teeth before he’s pressed against you again, and your resolve goes right out the fucking window, your mouth crashing down onto his. 

You thread your fingers into his hair and yank him forward and you can feel him chuckle against your body as he has to balance himself with his hands on the wall on either side of you. His thigh slides between your legs and a full body shudder passes through you as you allow yourself to lean down into him. 

Fuck. 

Nick pulls back just a little, brushing your lips together. His hand slides between you, tugging your dress up so that the only thing between your cunt and his jeans are your underwear. 

“Do you want me to stop?” He asks, mouth at your ear. “I can stop.” 

That’s something you’ve always loved about Nick—he checks on you, he makes sure you’re okay. Doesn’t matter if it’s something soft or like this, heated and desperate. You know you shouldn’t—you know that this will only complicate things that are already complicated…

And yet you don’t want to stop. 

“No,” You reply, assure your response with your hips pivoting down, grinding against his leg. Nick’s hands fall to your waist, holding you in place, a groan vibrating in his chest. 

The pulse of the music is muffled, you can hear the uptick in his breathing, can feel how hard he is against you. You’re not ashamed of the tiny whimpers that leave your lips as you roll your hips down against him, the pressure incredible but not enough—he feels so fucking good. You’ve missed him terribly. All logical thought evaporates when his one hand comes up and cups your breast through your slip dress. 

“Can feel how wet you are for me,” Nick says. “Desperate for it, aren’t you?” 

Jesus. You need more. You need him to help—to do something. You can only use the momentum of your legs to get off on him to a certain point. There’s not enough leverage, there’s not enough friction to sate the heated ache quickly building in your lower belly. 

“I—I need—”

“No,” He nips at your lower lip. “If you want to cum, you’re gonna have to do it just like this.” 

An exasperated noise leaves your mouth, and you’re stuck between wanting to throttle him and kiss him. He drags your hips down, and you wish his fingers were inside of you, wish his thumb was circling your clit. The thought alone is enough to uptick your pleasure, and you’re so fucking close. 

“Nick,” You moan, “Please.” 

He licks his lips, smiling a little as his hand tugs down your dress over your breast. “So polite.” He teases, before he dips his head, taking your nipple into his mouth. 

There’s a snap of your hips when he drags his teeth over your puckered flesh and then you’re shattering. He holds your body up as you shudder, waves of pleasure slamming into you like the base of the music pulsing in your ears. 

He doesn’t let you go, even when your breathing settles, even when his leg moves out from between your thighs. You’re sure you look absolutely wrecked—you feel it. Underwear ruined, sweat sticking some of your hair to your neck, your heart thrumming for a completely different reason. 

Your eyes find Nick’s, the port that’s always been in the center of your storm, and a sudden thick emotion lodges itself in your throat. 

“I miss you.” You choke out, blaming the almost waterworks on endorphins, on the bliss that’s still kissing your nerve endings. 

Nick visibly swallows, brushing your hair over your shoulder after he fixes your dress. You think he might say something, he even opens his mouth, but no words come. 

Jesus. One good orgasm and you’re tumbling head over tincups into emotions too heavy to come with words. Nick broke up with you—you should be furious, you should push him away, except this is how the whole problem started. You pushed first. 

You straighten your shoulders and he takes a step back. You expect him to turn and leave, but he doesn’t, hovering—waiting? You’re not sure for what. He runs both of his hands through his hair, as if to compose himself, as if there’s words stuck in his throat that he doesn’t know how to say. 

Instead of saying anything at all, he reaches his hand out for you to take. A peace offering, of sorts, a promise that even though things aren’t okay, the door isn’t completely closed off. 

You discreetly wipe away a tear that’s slipped down your cheek and take his hand. 

—

You don’t talk about what happened at the club but things don’t change between you. It’s the same heavy glances, the same shared, soft smiles, the same brushing of fingers and calling it an accident. 

It should be fucked up. But it’s not. 

—

You haven’t been to an underground car show and race in a while, so the thrum of engines and the smell of gasoline is exciting. Comforting, even. You come with Jenna even though you know Nick will be there. Avoidance doesn’t work and trying to ignore the crackling energy between you two just…ends up with you getting off on his leg in a darkened corner at a club. 

“Don’t get me wrong, babe,” Jenna says over her shoulder as she moves to lean against her car. “I love Nick, I really do. But…whatever this is between you two—”

“I know,” You put your hand up to stop her. 

She smiles a little, “I was hopin’ you two would talk, figure it out.” 

“Oh, you mean you ruining my favorite pair of underwear wasn’t ‘figuring it out’?” You laugh a little, rubbing the back of your neck. Despite it probably not being the best decision…you can’t find yourself regretting it either. 

You still love Nick. You don’t think that’ll change. 

You look down at your shoes, a pair of sneakers, high waisted jeans  and a crop t-shirt. You’re showing off your shape but nothing that overdoes it; comfortable. You feel like you need that tonight. 

“I told him I missed him.” In an orgasm induced haze, but still. “And he didn’t say anything.” 

You know Nick isn’t exactly very forward with his words all the time, his actions speak the loudest. But…you needed to hear something then, you needed some sort of assurance that…maybe you both made a mistake. 

Or maybe it’s just wishful thinking on your part. You can’t quite picture ripping yourself wide open to talk to him about why you pulled away if he can’t admit he purposely let you go. 

You run a hand over the side of your face, glancing over at another set of cars pulling up and guys getting out, greeting one another, the space turning into an outside party with music and beer. While you’re glad you came, it’s been a while, part of you feels like curling under your comforter at home with a book. 

“Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to branch out?” Jenna asks, tossing an arm over your shoulder. “Not saying you need to have another orgasm,” You laugh softly. “But maybe talking to some handsome strangers wouldn’t hurt either.” 

You breathe in through your nose, looking out at the crowd of cars and people. You suppose it wouldn’t hurt. 

—

Turns out talking to guys about cars is fun. You don’t know much about them? But they like responding to your questions—and none of it has been mansplaining, which you’re grateful for. You’re really not in the mood tonight…just trying to sink into your own skin, enjoy something that’s a little different, not think about Nick. 

Even though you can feel his eyes on you. 

You know he’s here because you saw him drive in, park his car, and find Lion and Jenna. He doesn’t come find you; wouldn’t be surprised if Jenna told him to give you some space. Either way, you can feel his gaze every so often, lingering, something open and warm that you miss. That you feel like you can dive right into. 

Your heart flutters in your chest as you lock eyes, the guy you were talking to, Pete, headed to the bathroom. Nick crosses the pavement, giving you a small wave. 

“Hi.” 

You smile, the word somehow too simple , but you say it back. You try to think of something else to say, to fill the space between you, 

“There’s not a race tonight, is there?” 

His eyebrows crinkle together, smiling, “Why? Did you want to give driving a shot?” 

You laugh and he takes a step closer, “No, I wouldn’t stand a chance. Even when you’re driving too fast sometimes I get nauseous.” 

“I’m always under the speed limit.” 

“You are not,” You scoff out a sound but you’re grinning. 

“Very responsible,” Nick tacks on with a playful tilt of his lips, sticking his hands into his pockets. 

The banter is familiar but it makes you miss him even more. That gnawing pit in your stomach rears its ugly head as you think about the other night, about saying something so vulnerable and it not being reciprocated. Nick must see the shadow pass over your face because he clears his throat, tilting his head in the direction of the bathrooms. 

“I’m gonna—” He trails off and he turns to leave but then pauses, “I’ll see you later?” 

The question sinks into your skin and blooms before you give him a small nod. You then look at your shoes, unable to watch him walk away. 

—

Having another sip of the drink in your hand, you smile as Pete finishes his semi-cute rant about the first car he ever owned. Some sort of thing he and dad fixed up together, which is how he’s come to love cars. It’s nice, having that connection to something special, something that becomes a passion project. You thought for a long time that might be art for you but…you’ve learned that you’re much more someone who appreciates viewing art than creating it. Maybe you’ll end up going to school for something that involves the ocean.

Shifting on your feet, you curl your hair away from your face. There’s a soft headache pinching the back of your head, behind your ear, but it’s probably from the muffled sound of music constantly pulsing against the concrete down here. 

“So would you say you like driving or fixing up cars more?” You ask, running your thumb over the rim of the cup. 

He opens his mouth to reply, but then his gaze narrows to someone behind you. Turning, you come face to face with Nick, who looks furious. It’s not so much in his face, it’s the way he’s holding his body—like a tight band about to snap. He zeroes in on the cup in your hand, 

“Give that to me.” 

You blink, “What? No.” Seriously? You thought you kinda parted from one another on good terms and now he’s here? In your business while you’re trying to talk to a guy? To have a decent night that doesn’t include him? 

You open up your mouth–

“Y/N.” There's something in the way that he says your name that makes you feel cold, your gaze wandering down to the cup. It only takes a moment to connect to dots about why Nick would approach you like this, pissed. A sour feeling develops in your stomach, connecting to pinpricks of dread as the cup leaves your hand.

Nick takes it, your fingers brushing, setting it down on the pavement. And as if he wasn't moving carefully before, he suddenly whirls his body in precise movements, suckerpunching Pete in the face. His body bows and he lands on the ground, screaming about his face—

"You broke my fucking nose!"

"You think someone wasn't going to hear you in the bathroom, you fuck?" He snaps and you stumble a step back, bumping into the driver's side of a car nearby. You’re trying to piece together what’s going on but your thoughts are sluggish, which just serves to make you feel more panicked. 

"I didn't know she was your girlfriend, man, she said she was single." 

You put your hand over your mouth, swaying a little on your feet, though you're not sure if it's because Pete...he put something in your drink or because of the blood on Nick's knuckles as he throws another punch, this time hitting him square in the jaw. Pete's head snaps back like a ragdoll but all he does is groan. 

It’s unclear if Nick says anything else because the garage begins to spin and you let out a short, sharp breath, bending a little at your waist to close your eyes. Fuck. Whatever Pete gave you? It's strong and working fast—you only had a few sips of that drink. Terrifying to think if you'd been alone with him...

Someone comes up beside you and wraps an arm around your waist and you begin to squirm until you hear Nick's voice against your ear, "Shh, it's me." A small, uncomfortable whimper leaves your lips—your body feels weird, like it's disconnected. Bone by bone, muscle by muscle. Your cheeks are hot and your stomach is dipping in nausea. "I know, I got you. Hold onto me." 

You stretch your arm across his shoulders, squeezing your eyes shut as everything spins. There's movement, but you have no idea how you're even walking with how heavily you're leaning into Nick's side. 

Flashes of movement, sound, and pitches of light. You can feel warm leather underneath your body, head lolled back against the headrest, Jenna's voice? Then Nick's. 

"No, I got her." He closes a door, opens up another, "I get it Jenn, but it’s not happening. I’m not leaving her.” Confusion prickles along your forehead, unable to make heads or tails of that conversation. You want to ask but your veins feel like they're filled with cotton as the world goes black. 

--

Sleep is uncomfortable and dreamless. You wake up several times with a pounding headache, a sour stomach, and shaking that makes you feel like there aren’t enough blankets in the world to keep you warm. When you wake up and it sticks, you blink as you try to get your vision to adjust. The room is a little dark, sun trying to shine through drawn curtains. There’s an anvil that’s been placed on your head, there has to be, because when you turn to lie on your back the pain in your temples is unheard of. 

You close your eyes again, pinching the space between your nose and forehead with your fingers. It doesn’t help. A weight sits down near your legs, an arm stretched over them. When you manage to pry your eyelids back again, Nick comes into slow focus. He looks tired, eyes not as bright, curls a bit mussed. 

“How you feeling?” He asks, voice nearly a whisper. 

“Like I swallowed a tire and then was run over.” You wince, sitting up just a little, which somehow makes everything worse. Your hand covers your face and Nick threads his fingers through your hair, brushing the strands over your shoulder. The room is quiet for the moment, birds chirping outside, the even movement of Nick drawing in breath. 

“I can't believe this happened,” You mumble, “I feel like an idiot.”

“This isn't on you,” He says, voice gentle but firm. “If Pete knows what's good for him, he'll never think about doing shit like that again.”

You raise your eyebrows, the corner of your mouth twitching in a smile as you finally look at him. “What are you, like, the mafia? Did you cut off his hands?”

A wisp of a smile, and yet something dark in those eyes that make you swallow, “No, but I did threaten to slam them in his car door if I ever saw him at another event you were at.”

You shake your head even though your entire body bursts with warmth. What does it say about you? That you're willing to accept such a violent sentiment? You draw in a long breath through your nose. Maybe a thought for another day when you don't feel so sick. 

One of Nick's hands lace through yours, his thumb brushing circles around your knuckles. "Seeing you like that..." He was scared, you realize, you can see it on his face—plain as day. He's quiet for a moment, licking his lips before he speaks again, 

"Can I get you anything?" 

You shake your head, not wanting him to leave, drawing in a breath as you finally notice that you're in his bedroom and not your own. You pick up hints of the smell of laundry detergent and his shampoo on his sheets. He drove you back to his place, 

"Didn't think I'd end up in your bed any time soon." It's a small joke, just something to break what feels like a vice-like tension around your ribs. 

Nick's gaze holds your own for a moment, something unweighted and unsaid, "I miss you here." 

You swallow over an instant lump in your throat and you have to tear your eyes away and blink, trying to get rid of the sudden onslaught of tears. Partly because of the situation that landed you here, but also because you didn't realize how much you needed to hear him say it, to hold that same sentiment as you. 

You sniffle, a tear slipping down your cheek as you try to play off the comment with a light laugh, "Well your bed does have the best pillows." 

Nick doesn't reply but instead leans forward until his arms are wrapped around your back, gently pulling you to his chest. His one hand slips through your hair as you press your face into his shoulder, while the other rubs up and down your back in firm, even strokes. 

Nothing is fixed between you two, not by a long-shot. But some of the visible cracks, you think, begin to heal. 

—

You were wrong. 

That much is clear. You’ve had so many good moments with Nick that you’re not sure why you allowed your unfounded anxiety to control you, to convince you of something that wasn’t true. But that time spent with him in his bedroom after the whole Pete thing only solidifies what you’ve been feeling for a while. 

You fucked up. 

You pulled away based solely on fears that were baseless, something you thought you didn’t have a claim to. But you do. You do deserve to have someone be there for you, to take care of you, to look out for you. To miss you. 

You’re ready to own that you didn’t make the best choice…but Nick needs to own his mess too. 

Y/N: Can we talk? 

It takes a little for your phone to buzz— Nick: You’re not gonna convince me that diner food is somehow better than Italian, you’re just not. 

A small smile tugs the corners of your mouth, Y/N: I mean…

You’ve had this banter back and forth before and it’s easy to fall back into similar patterns, something comforting. That feels like home. 

Nick: You’ve never had homemade carbonara. Life-changing. 

Y/N: Are you offering? 

Not what you were originally trying to text him about but spending time with him wouldn’t suck, either. Who says you can’t bring up past mistakes over pasta? You chew on your lower lip, as you wait for a response. 

Nick: What do you want to talk about? Nick: I might be out of London next week, my dad is traveling for work and I think I’m gonna go with him.

You stare at the messages for a moment, almost getting whiplash. You know that tone completely disappears sometimes with texting but…you also get the sense that you and Nick are on the same page. And he doesn’t want to be. 

You swallow over unspoken words in your throat, not wanting to lose your nerve. If Nick leaves, you’re almost worried that you’ll be at square one when he gets back. 

Y/N: Something important. 

You curl your hair around your ear, pulling yourself up in bed. You do your best not to pace, trying to clean up your room instead, something more productive than wearing the carpet down. When your phone pings, you deny practically diving for it. 

Nick: Then I’ll make time for you. 

—

That conversation doesn’t happen. Not because neither of you want it to happen, but because the next day, your grandmother passes away. It’s not something you were expecting—you thought your grandma was in pretty good health for her age. You just saw her a month ago…went over to her house, baked cookies and watched episodes of Magnum P.I., because your grandmother’s thirsting commentary over Tom Selleck was one of your favorite things to participate in. 

You were close. Sometimes you talked to her about relationships  because she was married to your grandfather until he died a few years ago. They were in love in a way that made you feel like…like maybe it’s one of the best and worst things to happen to someone. That maybe not all relationships are doomed from the start. Your gram talked about her husband every day, even after he passed, something warm and gentle in her eyes. That love never faded. 

Sometimes you and her talked about Nick. 

When your parents tell you, you don’t cry. You just kind of stand there staring at them, waiting for the other shoe to drop, for someone to turn this into a warped joke, a morbid sense of humor. It doesn’t feel real. How does one day have your grandmother in it and then the next just…doesn’t? How are you supposed to keep going through each of them moving forward without her? Someone who was always willing to listen, someone who made you laugh and feel at home in your skin. 

Someone who just saw you. There’s only been one another person in your life that’s made you feel like that. 

The days slip forward but you don’t end up leaving your room, spending time in bed, unmoving. You ignore your laptop, your pinging phone that eventually dies, the pleas of your parents to eat something. You just…you can’t. Not right now. There’s an ache in your chest that is beyond anything you’ve ever felt before, it immobilizes you. In the back of your mind you know you should take care of yourself, that the last thing your grandmother would want is this. 

But today isn’t that day. 

You shift in bed, adjusting your head on your pillow, hearing your bedroom door open. You don’t turn to look at who it is—probably your mother, either setting food on your nightstand or maybe deciding she’s gonna force your hand. Yank the covers off and encourage you to get a shower. You cover your face with your hand, listening to the movements as the door closes again. 

Blankets are pulled back, but someone crawls in, your heart lurching into your throat as you realize who it is. 

Nick drags his hand down your arm, shuffling closer until his front maps against your back. “You don’t have to say anything,” He murmurs, “But I’m going to lay here with you. Alright?” 

You lick your lips, the bridge of your nose stinging as you realize he’s supposed to be gone this week. He mentioned he was going to travel with his dad and yet he’s here, with you, offering you comfort and space all at once. You lean back just a little into him, a silent reply, squeezing your eyes shut. Nick’s hand rubs your shoulder, thumb tracing back and forth along your elbow, a kiss pressed to the back of your neck. 

The weight of his body and the heat of his skin make tears gather in your eyes. You’re not sure how your heart can feel so full and empty all at the same time. Sniffling, you turn your body so that you’re facing him, Nick leaning back just a little. His hand comes to rest on your waist, his head perched on your one pillow. Your eyes begin to trace the soft blonde curls that are near his forehead, the slope of his nose, his strong jawline and full lips. 

He’s here—and you love him even more than you already do, which doesn’t feel possible. 

Nick’s eyes explore your face, his one hand cupping your cheek and brushing underneath your eye, removing invisible tears that haven’t fallen yet. “I’m so sorry.” He whispers. 

You bite down on the inside of your cheek, trying not to cry, but on the next intake of breath tears spill over your cheeks. You cover your face with one hand, your shoulders shuddering, and Nick closes the space between you. He draws you into his chest, tucking you under his chin, and you find yourself clinging to him as each sob wracks your body. All the pent up emotions you’ve had since you found out empty against his chest—and Nick takes it all. 

He steadies you, wrapping his arms tightly around your frame, pressing his nose and lips into your hair. He squeezes every so often, your fingers gathering his shirt into your hands as if you can ground yourself in him. 

“That’s it,” He threads his hand through your hair, rubbing his thumb against the back of your neck. “Just let it all out.” Nick knows you far too well, knows that you haven’t given yourself time to feel, to be. To let it all wash over you. That you need this and didn’t realize how much that was true until it was happening. 

You exhaust yourself, until you’re a mess of sniffles and stumbled breathing. Nick pulls back a little, cupping both sides of your face to brush your hair behind your ears. He presses a kiss to your forehead, reaching over your shoulder to grab a few tissues from the box on your nightstand. 

“Thank you.” Your voice is a bit strained from lack of use and you try your best to clean up your face, crumpling the tissues into your palms. You’re not just thanking him for the tissues though, it’s for everything, for being here. 

Your chest hurts but…you feel a little bit better. You’re not sure when you’ll feel like yourself again, but it’s a good, small, first step. Your gaze finds Nick’s, who’s watching you with a careful expression. Not because he thinks you might start crying again, but because he’s concerned. Worried. You lift your hand and brush your thumb over his lower lip, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek. 

“I love you.” You tell him, feeling him go still beneath your touch. You know this might not be the best time, that maybe these thick, heavy emotions are driving forth how you make decisions, but…if anything? You’ve just been reminded that life is short. That you shouldn’t go through it without sharing how you feel about things, about people. 

“I know it’s…I know we still have to talk and I understand if—” If you don’t feel the same way, is what you want to say but the words get trapped underneath your tongue. 

Nick’s hand falls to your neck, tipping your chin up with his thumb, “I love you too.” He replies, stealing the air right from your lungs. “That’ll never change.” He holds your gaze a moment, playfully pinching your chin between his thumb and fingers. “Okay?” 

You give him a soft, watery smile, nodding before he tucks you in close again. 

Nick stays as long as you need him. 

—

A handful of weeks pass by—the pain of losing your grandmother doesn’t completely disappear. But you do feel better. They say that time is capable of healing all wounds, and maybe that’s true, but honestly? You think it has everything to do with Nick. 

—

Jenna’s birthday is celebrated at her house, a large party underway. You’d expect nothing less at celebrating someone so vibrant. You’re over there early to help set up, to hang out and do your makeup, to eat a little too much cake with sweet icing. Her house fills up fast, people you’ve never even met before spilling into all the rooms of the lavish London estate. You’re looking for someone specific though. 

You and Nick haven’t spoken with the intention of clearing the air since your grandmother passed. He’s been giving you space to breathe and work through your emotions, which…you appreciate, but you don’t want space anymore. You don’t want to spend one more day caught between a ‘sometimes’ and an ‘almost’. 

“You seen Nick?” You call out to Lion who’s mixing drinks in the kitchen. 

“Playing pool I think.” He volleys back. 

Making your way through the crowd of people, you turn towards the dining room were the pool table is located, but stop short when you hear Anna—

“C’mon Nick, at the very least we used to be good friends.” 

“Jesus Anna, I’m just trying to take a piss.” Which tells you she cornered him outside the bathroom. You chew on your lower lip, debating turning the corner and revealing that you’re standing there or going about your business to the dining room…or maybe even go back the way you came. 

You shouldn’t be eavesdropping, you know you’d be annoyed if someone was listening in on you, but…your feet feel glued to the carpet. You’re not sure you can move even if you decided to. 

“I’m just trying to say,” Anna replies, softer than before. She must have stepped closer to him because her voice is no longer carrying like it was. “That I miss you.” 

There is no reply from Nick. 

“We’ve always known how to have a good time.” 

When Nick finally does speak, his voice is matter of fact, “That hasn’t been true for a long time.” 

Anna bristles, “I just thought that since you’re single now, free from that—”

“Don’t,” Nick interrupts, a warning. You can picture the muscle in his jaw working, the way it clenches when he begins to get pissed off. Then, “You thought wrong.” 

A door closes, effectively ending the conversation. You know you should probably move as Anna storms down the hallway, but you don’t and when she turns the corner, her eyes go wide. You straighten your shoulders at her scowl, offering her a bright smile…before heading in the direction she came from. 

Down the hall, towards Nick. 

You wait patiently outside the bathroom for the door to open, his eyebrows lifting in soft surprise as he sees you leaning against the far wall. Warm amusement blooms over his face, erasing the earlier attitude lines from his expression.  Nick’s shoulders drop from his ears, his entire demeanor relaxes around you, as if he’s peeling away a version of himself. That he’s showing you something real. You have no idea why you hadn’t noticed it before. 

He props himself against the doorframe, “This feels vaguely familiar.” He smirks, glancing down the empty hall. 

You move towards him, a fond smile on your face, “I was looking for you.” 

Nick draws in a soft breath, tipping his chin down as you come to stand in front of him. “How have you been doing?”

It’s a large question, one you’re not sure you have a complete answer for, but you love that he asks, “I’m alright,” You nod, “Some days are better than others.” 

He nods, silence stretching between you both but it’s not uncomfortable. Your heart hammers a little into your ears and you resist the urge to straighten your dress when you know it’s perfectly fine. 

“I’m not keeping you from anything, am I?” You ask after a moment, “Anna waiting to have a good time?” 

Nick lets out a soft laugh that sounds like a breath leaving his nose, rolling his eyes, “Heard all that, did you?” 

And yes, you may have admitted that you were eavesdropping, but he doesn’t look put off in the slightest. “Was a valiant effort on her part.” 

His gaze is warm as he shakes his head and suddenly the silence between you two feels electrically charged. “She didn’t come close.” 

You feel heat splotch across the back of your neck and fuck, you have no idea what it is exactly about Nick and how he can make you feel like this. Like everything you thought you knew has been flipped upside down. You breathe in through your nose to settle the butterflies, straightening your spine in resolve so you don’t chicken out—

“This…distance between us, it’s…it was my fault.” 

Nick’s eyebrows draw together a little and he takes a step forward and you’re almost breathing the same air. You can feel the heat of his body through his clothes, his cologne achingly familiar, his fingers brushing yours as he takes your hand into his. You turn your wrist, your thumb playing with a ring on his index. 

You expect him to make a joke about there not being distance at all, but instead, he shakes his head, not allowing you to take all the blame, “I knew what you were doing,” Pulling away, “and instead of trying to talk to you, I made it worse.” 

“You wanted to hurt me,” You admit in a small voice. 

Nick glances away, a twitch in his jaw that tells you everything without him even having to say it. Not something he’s proud of, yet true. 

“Is that what you really wanted?” You ask, quickly clarifying when pain flashes in his eyes. “To break up?” 

He lifts his hand and plays with a strand of hair near your ear before tucking it behind. There’s a soft smile playing with the corners of his mouth, but it’s like he’s afraid to give into the full emotion. 

“Think we both know I’m not exactly over you.” 

You smile back, “So I’ll take that as a no then—”

Nick leans down to kiss you. It’s gentle at first, wary, asking for permission—just in case. But the moment you thread your fingers behind his neck, when you lean your body into his and make a soft, pleased noise, that’s all it takes for him to deepen the kiss. The atmosphere shifts around you and Nick leans down, lifting you up into his arms, backing up into the bathroom as your legs wrap around his waist. 

Sometimes Nick reminds you of fire—warmth, crackling energy, unpredictability. All-consuming. It’s one of your favorite things about him, how undeniable he is. 

The kiss breaks for a moment, you breathe and Nick’s one arm keeps you close while the other slips between you. His hand cups your cheek, thumb toying with your lower lip. “Whoever thought breaking up was a good idea is an absolute tool.” 

A giggle slips out, making Nick smile against your lips, and he backs up until he becomes flush with a wall. When that happens, he carefully loosens his arms so that you end up back on the floor, pressed against him. Your arms lazily wrap around his waist, up and under his jacket, a soft squeeze following. 

He purses his lips, “You think Jenna would be angry with us for leaving her birthday party early?” 

You really like where that thought is going, “I think she’ll understand,” You tip your chin up at him, smiling, “Besides, I have one of those faces that’s hard to say no to—sure she can’t be mad at it, either.”

Nick sighs softly, grabbing your hand to lace his fingers with your own. He begins to tug you from the bathroom, “Don’t I know it.” 

You grin, wandering back down the hallway and through the party towards the front door where all the cars are parked. You pass Anna on the way out, her eyes zeroing in on your joined hands. You know it’s petty of you to wave goodbye to her with your other hand—yet you do it anyways. 

—

Nick’s kitchen is filled with the scent of spices, herbs and fatty pork. He kept his promise about making homemade carbonara and you should have known that if he was going to cook, he was going to go all out. You lean against the counter as you sit on a high stool, chin pillowed in your hand, eyes on the back of him as he twirls pasta on the stove with tongs. Your gaze follows the long line of toned muscles in his shoulders, down to his waist. 

One of the hottest things a guy can do, you think, is cook. 

Jenna playfully snaps her fingers in front of your face, breaking your staring contest. You’re not even embarrassed, you just grin at her. She shakes her head, amused, “I’m so glad you’re back together, babe. No offense, I love you, but you both were just absolutely insufferable.” 

You scoff out an affronted noise, your hand on your chest in mock offense as Nick turns around to plate pasta. He’s smiling, his eyes flickering to yours before concentrating on the task at hand. He pulls long noodles from the pot, twisting even helpings onto serving plates. 

Everyone eats their fill—Jenna, Lion and Giles headed towards the pool for a late night swim. You and Nick will join them, eventually, but for now you have another helping of pasta as Nick cleans up the kitchen. You smile a little as you hear Jenna laugh outside, splashes of water. A pleased breath is drawn into your lungs as you eat the last bit of pasta on your plate. 

It’s gone—a tragedy. 

“Not going to lick the plate?” Nick asks, voice full teasing, a warmth in his gaze as he takes the plate from you. 

You narrow your eyes a little, “I mean, it was good, but check your ego.” 

Nick smirks, “Alright, so what’s the verdict?” You pretend to give it some serious thought, pausing for dramatic effect. Your boyfriend laughs suddenly, shaking his head— “Oh come on, you’re not serious.” 

“I’m still thinking!” 

“What’s there to think about?” He asks, “Homemade carbonara.” 

“Yeah, but like…have you ever ordered a cheeseburger with a perfect side of cinnamon pancakes?” You ask, purposely trying to jerk his wire, “Only a diner can do that.” 

Nick sets the plate down behind him, turning to lean against the counter. He gives you an incredulous look, “You are absolutely wrong for that, don’t know how else to put it.” 

You preen, a grin on your face, “You love me.” You toss it out rather carelessly, not expecting Nick to catch it. 

And yet he does, handles it with care, keeps it close. “Yes,” He nods, a small smile on his face. “I do.” 

A soft breath catches in your throat and warmth, affection, gathers in the center of your chest. The sensation used to make you feel like running away, but not anymore. You tilt your head a little, 

“Come over here and kiss me.” 

Nick pushes himself off the counter, rounding the island counter as you shift your body on the stool. He’s moving almost too fast, eager, and you don’t have time to open your legs for him as he leans down and captures your lips. That’s just fine though, his hands splay your knees apart before he sinks between them. 

A soft noise leaves your lips, an ache beginning in your stomach and blooming lower, your one ankle hooks around the back of his leg. There’s a distant thought in the back of your mind, shouldn’t we be getting back to our friends? — but that is quickly overshadowed when you feel the beginning of Nick’s hardness against your inner thigh. 

He seems to read your mind because in one quick motion, he’s lifting you up into his arms and you steady yourself with your legs around his waist, arms draped over his shoulders. 

“What are you doing?” You laugh, noses brushing as he tips his head up to look at you. 

“Making up for lost time.” And carries you towards his bedroom. 

[evermoresversion]

Hi, i hope your having a great day so can you write something like movie scene you know there is a pool scene between noah and nick can you write this between reader and nick maybe a little bit of smut.

I really enjoy reading your one shots with nick you are the only nich writer no one else wirte nick one shot love ya🥰

CLOSER, NICK LEISTER.

A/N It's been a while since I last wrote for Nick. I hope I haven't lost practice, aaa.

PAIRING Nick Leister x Fem!Reader

TW/TAGS Established relationship, smut, suggestive content, MDNI, 18+, fingering, praise kink.

SUMMARY It's the hottest day of the year, so you and Nick go in the pool, but the heat takes over both of you, leading you to warm up in another way.

NICK'S MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

It was the hottest day of the year and you were both in his room.

He was lying in a starfish position on his bed and you were sitting in an armchair that he had in his room.

He was shirtless while you were wearing shorts and a sleeveless top.

"What if we go in the pool?" he offered and you mentally hit yourself for not having thought of that option before.

"Please," you almost jumped out of the chair to get up although you complained as soon as the fake leather of the chair stuck to your skin from the sweat that your legs had shed. "shit."

He laughed getting out of bed and walking to the door, he opened it and stepped aside for you to come through.

"Ladies first," he bowed and you laughed at his antics, bowing back, walking out of his room with him following you. "Whoever gets there first chooses the food." he said and started running down the stairs.

"Wait what? Hey cheater!" you started running after him while the two of you laughed.

"Watch out kids!" exclaimed one of the women who works for the Leister family.

"As kids they no longer have anything."

And when you were about to arrive, Nick arrived first and jumped into the pool, drenching your clothes with splashing water.

"Nicholas!" you exclaimed indignantly and moved closer to the edge, dropping to your knees in front of him as he surfaced. "does cheating have fun?"

"A bit." He sentenced and took you by the hand, pulling it to submerge you in the water next to him.

You swam to the surface and took a deep breath already outside.

"I don't know how to swim!" you exclaimed pretending to drown and he quickly swam towards you to take you in his arms.

You laughed out loud looking at him.

"You always fall." you said and left him confused but he immediately understood.

"Fuck off." He laughed letting you go, you knew perfectly well how to swim but whenever the two of you were in a pool you made a joke of not knowing how to swim and he always fell.

You submerged again to be able to accommodate your hair and enjoy the cool water on your face warmed by the sun.

"It's delicious." you murmured with your eyes closed, running your hands through your hair, feeling the contrast of the sun on your skin and the cold water.

When you opened them you saw that Nick was looking at you with a sweet smile. You swam back to him and he immediately welcomed you into his arms, pulling you closer to him.

You put your arms over his shoulders, caressing his tanned skin, running your hand through his wet hair.

He caressed your cheek and smiled even more as soon as he saw and felt you lean into his touch.

He leaned his face towards yours and his lips caught yours in a slow but passionate kiss.

His grip was firm on your legs, moving up to your thighs while his body was glued to yours, imprisoning you between the wall of the pool.

His lips moved skillfully over yours, your hand gently tugged at his hair. That was enough for one of his hands to go to one of your ass cheeks and squeeze it.

You felt his cock harden on your lower abdomen and your hand that wasn't in his hair went down to his crotch to caress him over his shorts.

He growled low on your lips and broke away from them to breathe.

You brushed your nose against his in a small show of affection, making him smile.

Your lips went to his ear to murmur the words that would make him lose what little self-control he had left.

"I need you right now."

You left a quick kiss behind his ear, then looked back at him. He attacked your lips again, positioning his hand on your neck without pressing, yet.

His tongue found its way into your mouth and it searched for yours, colliding with each other.

You felt his hand work its way between your legs as his body moved slightly away from you.

He pushed aside the cloth that covered your cunt, teasing between your lips.

A moan left your lips and he kissed you again to silence any sound you might make, since the two of you weren't alone.

"Remember to be quiet doll, you don't want anyone else to know how much you enjoy that I fuck you, do you?"

And after that he kissed you again, and you dug your nails into his shoulders when you felt his fingers move skillfully and quickly on your clit.

"F-fuck—" you gasped softly biting your lip and closing your eyes.

He watched every reaction he stole from you with his every action. Getting turned on with the sight of you enjoying how it made you feel.

After a few seconds, he introduced two of his fingers into your pussy, making you bite your lip hard to keep from moaning.

He began to move them at a steady, fast pace, or at least as fast as the water would allow him.

"You're making me feel so damn good." you gasped closing your eyes.

He brought his lips to your neck to leave wet kisses and marks.

Although his arm was beginning to get tired, he did not slow down the pace with which he penetrated you with his fingers.

You tightened your walls around his fingers as you felt the knot of pleasure in your abdomen.

"You look so fucking gorgeous like this." he murmured and smiled when he felt how you tightened around his fingers again.

He turned his attention back to the little button of nerves that would take you over the edge and you scratched at his back to hold on to something as the orgasm hit you like a truck.

You covered your own mouth with your hand to keep from screaming and your eyes were squeezed shut.

Your chest rose and fell with your erratic breathing. He kissed your cheek, forehead, nose and lips lovingly, moving his hand away from your center after adjusting the lower part of your clothes.

"I love you." you murmured smiling, hugging him and he smiled leaving a peck on your lips.

"I'm not done with you." He declared lifting you by the waist to sit on the edge of the pool, making you giggle knowing that he could handle you with his strength like a rag doll.

He got out of the pool and helped you up to walk back into his room.

disclaimer ── evermoresversion © 2023.

[stilessp]

WHY IS THERE NO ZACH JUSTICE X READERS ON HERE THAT MAN IS LITERALLY A GOD LIKE COME ON

guys ik i keep spam tagging but whoever sees this if u have an interest in this man and decide to make something PLEASE @ me !!!!!!

[loving08]

Love or Pain

Nicholas leister x reader

summary: Y/N and Nicholas has been best friends since childhood but Y/N started to have feelings for Nick. will she confess her feelings to him or the entry of Noah in their life would change everything??

A long chapter**

*SMUT WARNING*

Part 9

It was a rainy day, the clouds in the sky outcast the sun, the rain was pouring but not very heavily, Y/N sat at the window in the room she was staying at Italy. she was looking outside the window, listening to the pitter-patter of the rain deeply in thoughts, she sighed and looked down at her phone.

She had just ended a call with her parents, since day one she has come here, her parents had called her everyday to know about her days and herself and she really felt better talking with them but today it was a complicated feeling she's feeling right now. her parents has informed her that they are having a celebration party due to the success and profit of a project they had invested in so they wanted her to come back home to be there with them. she knows she should go back, its already been 5 months but.... she scared... scared to meet Nick again. she doesn't know how he is, or anything about him, she has asked her parents once or twice but they never really told her anything so she stopped asking them.

She was thinking about what she should do when Jenna came into her room, Y/N looked up at Jenna and then again looked down at her phone. Jenna took a sit in front of her and asked "why are you looking so gloomy Y/N, is something bothering you". Y/N looked up at her and said "I... just had a talk with my parents, they are celebrating for their success and because of that they want me to come back" Jenna nodded her already understanding what she's thinking and said "and you are debating if you should go or not since its a party your family is organizing and obviously Nick's family will also be invited, and you are not sure to see him again" Y/N nodded her head and looked out of the window, she doesn't want to admit it but she's missing Nick, more than anything, she thought she might forget him or atleast lose the feelings she had for him but it seems like being away from him has made those feeling to grow even more stronger than before.

Jenna sighed and said "Y/N I will be honest with you okay, you know when I heard about what had happened I was angry and that's why I thought maybe you going away from Nick will might help you but since you have come here it feels like you lost a part of youself, it seems to me like you have left a piece of you behind. You are miserable without him Y/N and.... you didn't even heard about his feeling at all, we all have just assumed that Nick doesn't loves you but do we really know if its true or not" Y/N turned her head and looked at Jenna, Yeah what she's saying was true but Y/N was scared of his response, what if its a rejection, she doesn't wanted to know about that. Jenna looked at Y/N and said "I think you should go, we should go back, you need an answer Y/N, even a little closure but I will not force you, whatever your decision is I will always support you okay" she put her hand above Y/N's and gave her a gentle squeeze and left.

Y/N thought about all the things Jenna said and decided that she is right, she can't hide from Nick forever, and she needs closure and then decided they will go back. she told Jenna and later informed her parents that they are coming back tomorrow. Y/N's parents were delighted when they got to know that she's coming back, and they knows its also time for her and Nick to meet.

Y/N and Jenna reached their hometown airport around 8 in the morning, both were jet lag and Jenna directly took a cab and promised Y/N that she will come to the party later tonight.

When Y/N reached her home she saw all the decorating and smiled to herself, finally.... she's home. she goes inside and instantly brought into a hug by her parents as soon as they saw her and, then they talked about everything she did in Italy, after talking for an hour or so Y/N took her leave to get some rest. she lay at her bed and thinks how everything will go and then fall asleep. Y/N woke up later in the evening and started to get ready for the party, while getting ready she was feeling excited as well as nervous, excited for meeting her friends and nervous for meeting Nick after such a long time. A little knock at her door brought her back to reality and she goes to open her door and saw her mom, she let her inside and her mom said "oh my, you look so beautiful darling". Y/N smiled at her mom and thanked her. Her mom tells her "sweetie after the party ends or when you will want to end the night and rest, go to our other house through our backyard, since it will a long night you will not be able to rest here properly okay, now c'mom let's go down stairs everyone's here already". Y/N nodded her head and they left her room.

Downstairs people were mingling with each other, Nick has also arrived with his family and looked around to see if Y/N is here or not but gets disappointed when he doesn't see her and lefts his family to go near his friends, just when he reached his friends the whole hall become silent, he was confused why everyone was quiet and looked at one of his friends and looked at the direction they were looking and his breath got hitched when he looked up the stairs, Y/N with her mom were descending down the stairs, she was wearing a red dress that was showing her figure perfectly with a sweetheart neck, she was looking heavenly beautiful, and Y/N's breath too got hitched when she looked directly at Nick, making eye contact with each other, its like they were in their own world. Y/N was the one who broke their intense eye contact and greeted all the other guests who came up to congratulate them with her parents and a little later goes in the direction her friends were.

Nick's back was turned to her but he felt her even before she reached them and turned to face her. when she reached her friends, she hugged and kissed their cheeks and gave them a big smile, yes she did had fun in Italy but still she missed her friends very much. she was intentionally avoiding Nick's eyes and when Jenna saw what she's doing, she looked at Y/N and gave her a smriks and said "C'mom guys let's go to the bar" and take their friends away, leaving Nick and Y/N alone. Y/N wanted to leave too but knew that will make things awkward so she turned towards him and gave him a small smile and said "Hey Nick, have you been well". Nick felt his heart beat a little faster seeing her smile at him and gave her a big smile in return and nodded his head. A tense moment began to appear and Y/N sense it so she gave him a nod and said "well enjoy yourself then, I should go to my mom" and turned and left him there.

The party was going very well and it was already around 11 at night, Y/N was still tired from the jet lag and told her mom she's going to her room and calling it a night, she then bid her friends her goodbyes and left the party and goes to their other house and step out of her heels. when she reached her room, she took out her earrings and was about to reach for the dress zipper when a knock came at her door. she furrowed her brows and turned, when she saw Nick standing at the door, he took a step inside and locked the door behind him. Y/N looked at him and the door and said "Nick what are you doing here, did you need something". Nick just quietly stared at her and she gulped at her nerves, she knows what Nick's doing here and now she's scared, she looked down at her feet avoiding his eyes.

Nick sighed and said "you left Bee, you actually left, why..... why did you do that" she just continued to look down, tears started to form in her eyes, Nick came closer to her and lift up her chin and said "how can you do that Y/N, do you even know how much it was hurting me, to be here without you, it was hell Y/N hell, everyday I wanted to give up but the little hope I had that you will come back wouldn't let me" and let out a soft sob. Y/N gently wiped his tears and puts her hands on his face and said " I had no choice left Nick, everything was hurting too much and after confessing to you I didn't knew what to do, I didn't wanted to hear your rejection and knowing that I ruined our friendship too was way too much for me to handle all at once. I had to leave Boo".

"Who said you ruined our friendship or that I was going to reject your confession" at that Y/N looked up at him confused and said "were you not in love with Noah I have seen you guys, how you both interacted with each other and, and...." Nick softly touched her cheeks and said "I want to confess something" Y/N nodded her head. Nick took a deep breath and said "I have felt something about you for a very long time Bee but.... didn't knew what it really was, I always told myself how can I think about you like that, you are my best friend I shouldn't have those feelings towards you, I thought you will never like or love me in a romantic way at all.... but when you said that you do love me, I felt alive..." and looked down at her with so much love "I love you Bee, I love you so much, and nothing and nobody, not even time can change that, this earth is like a hell for me but you.... you are my heaven in this earth Bee, someone up there must be watching out for me you know, because they sent heaven's most beautiful and kindest angel into my life....., and you wanna know the best and the happiest I have ever felt was.... that moment when I discovered you loved me too. I know I have hurted you but I will show you and let you know how much I really loves you and I will never stop trying because.... when you find the one, you never give up" he gently put his forehead with her and lovingly said " I have always loved you Bee and I will always love you until my last breath".

Y/N was an emotional mess now, she can't believe what she's hearing, Nick, her Nick loves her back, he had loved her too. she wrapped her arms around him and rests her head in his chest listening to his heartbeat and calmed herself. A few mins later they both have stopped crying but they stayed in each other embrace with small smiles in their faces. Nick lowered his face near her ear and asked "Bee.... can I kiss you", Y/N took a step back and looked at his face, the loving and adoration look he had and slowly nodded her head.

Nick gently puts his hands on her cheeks and slowly brought his lips closer to her and softly brushes against it, after confirming she's not gonna step back, he kissed her properly, the kiss was nothing like they imagined, it was even better, it was passionate and loving and even more, a second later the kiss grew intense, Nick pulled Y/N closer and deepened the kiss. He started to walk her back towards the wall and pinned her there, Y/N broke apart from him, gasping for air, both were breathless. Nick started to kiss her in the jaw and little by little towards her neck, and then he sucked there. A soft gasp left Y/N mouth when he sucked at a particular soft spot and realizing it he sucked harder, and then stepped back, looking down at the mark he left, feeling satisfied, he then looked at her face, seeing the daze look, he let out a quiet groan and hold her hand and lead her towards the bed, pulled her closer, turning her back towards him and goes to her zipper to pulled it down.

He slowly pulled it down and quietly whispered in her "are you sure darling, we can stop if you want" Y/N shook her head and said "no its okay, I'm okay" and then... he finally pulled down the zipper and helped her out of it. His eyes racked through her body from up to down and let out a sigh, he knew that she's beautiful but this, damn... even words can't describe her beauty.

He came closer to her and kissed her again but this time with more hunger. he then gently lay her at bed and started to kiss down her collarbone, reaching above her valley of her breasts, he looked up at her, silently asking for her permission, she nodded her head slowly, watching him as he moves his hand behind her and undone her red lacey bra and throw it somewhere in the room, he gently palmed one of her breasts in his hand and give it a small squeeze, Y/N was breathing heavily and let out a gasp when Nick puts his mouth on her nipple and sucked and bite it roughly.

He removes his mouth from her nipple with pop sound and gives the same treatment to her other breast. He then started to kiss down her stomach and when he reached near her underwear, he gently removed it, Y/N was gasping for air, she was feeling pleasurable already and doesn't seems she can wait any longer. she let out a small whimper and said "Nick... I... I need more" Nick heard her and nodded his head, he started to kiss her inner thighs, and reached near her core and slightly lick it, she was already so wet for him, he then firmly sucks her there, Y/N let out moan at that, feeling very high and grabbed his hair. he started to suck harder when he realized she's near, he gave her a few more deep sucks when she let out a loud moan and came, Nick licked her up and move above her and looks down at her.

Her chest fall up and down and her eyes were closed, he gently pampered her face with kisses and waited for her breathing to get normal a little. Y/N opened her eyes and looked at Nick's eyes and gave him a small smile, Nick gave her a peck on her lips, and again kissed her and then suddenly insert a finger inside her, Y/N let out a small moan which he swallowed it and started to stretch her out, then inserts a second finger and crossed it. Y/N was not being able to form any words, she was already feeling so much pleasure that she can't imagine what Nick's really doing to her. She opened her cloudy eyes, looking at him, she let out a moan and said " I...ah...I want....um.. I want you Nick, please" she can't wait any longer. her core was throbbing, desperate for him, she wants to feel him inside her now. Nick licked his lips and said " I know sweetheart, I know, I'm gonna give it to you baby".

Nick stepped back and removed his shirt and pants and walked out of his boxer, totally naked. he came closer and grabbed his cock and gave it a few pumps and then lined it up at her entrance. Y/N let out such a loud moan when he pushed into her abruptly, plumbing deep, her soaked channel providing no resistance to his deep thrust, pulling him into her hilt with a ripple of excitement. Nick let out a groaned, slowly thrusting into her. Y/N clung to his shoulder and Nick firmly grabbed her waist. He waited for her to feel the pleasure again and when she did he started to thrust in to her deeply and roughly. Y/N was a moaning mess, her eyes rolled back and she was grabbing onto him tightly, already feeling a pressure started to build up and said " Nick oh my...I'm.. I'm gonna...ah...cum...oh god". Nick started to thrust more roughly and faster and said "yes baby cum for me, let me know how much pleasure I gave you, let me feel your cum around me" Y/N clenched her soft walls around his length and his thrust started to grow clumsier and more sloppy, nearing his own end. "Fuck....oh my god...ah." Y/N cursed digging her nails onto his biceps and came hard and a few more thrust and Nick too came as hard as her.

Nick plops on top of her, both breathing heavily, then slights down to the side and pulled her closer to him and hugged her tightly, her body felt light on top of him, breathing gradually became even, Nick sighed and caresses her hair softly. "are you okay baby, I didn't hurt you anywhere" Y/N looked up at him lovingly and gave him a smile "no you didn't, and....it was amazing" and they both let out a small laugh.

A little later Y/N let out a yawn and closed her eyes drifting off to sleep, Nick looked down and smile at her with so much love and adoration and said "I love you so much Bee, I will always love you...., have a very sweet dream my love" and kissed her forehead, closing his eyes, holding her closer to him, feeling content again and drift off to sleep too.

Epilogue